


Strings'n'Drums

by Rhaella_Tully



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: 60's-70'sAU, AU, Alternate Universe - Music, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Growing Up, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Journalism, Multi, Music, Musicians, Rock and Roll, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 05:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13991202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhaella_Tully/pseuds/Rhaella_Tully
Summary: AU. In 1969, Lucy runs from home and becomes a journalist for the magazin Strings'n'Drums, this will lead the young shy girl in the world of rock music, to meet the colorfull caracters that populates it. In between running from her father and living new experience Lucy will make friends, gorw into an adult and maybe have some romance. Will include Nalu and mentions of other parings





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just to clarify this story goes on in 1969
> 
> This chapter beta was : Releina Artemis Rockefeller

It was a small, seedy bar in Camden Town.

Lucy was waiting at a table close to the window. Her hands were rubbing against her coffee mug as she always did when she was nervous. She always seemed to be, lately. She was nervous every time she walked down the street; not because she feared to be assaulted, but because she could never know if some private detective hired by her father would be there ready to force her back home. She was nervous when she was in her apartment because she didn't know if she'd be able to pay the rent next month. She was nervous when reading horoscopes because she actually believed in them. She was nervous right now because she didn't know if Levy McGarden would show up.

Levy McGarden was a 20-year-old photographer and Lucy's best chance to get an actually interesting job. All she had to do was interview her and make an article out of it, phrase it this way and that. It seemed easy, but she had to meet the standards of the chief redactor and do it in two days—but she had never written articles before. She wanted the job, not that she dreamed of being a journalist, but it paid enough to keep her flat and it involved writing, Lucy's actual dream. On top of that, her opening was in a rock & roll magazine. This music had something wild and mysterious that intrigued—in a good or a bad way—everyone. Lucy was positively intrigued, very positively. Lucy couldn't imagine anything better, if only Levy McGarden would come through the door right now.

Not that Lucy would have been able to tell, she had never met the girl. All she knew about her was in the little file the chief redactor had given her the day before. Lucy's work in the world of journalism had come in the most unexpected way. She was working the night shift in a bar two streets down from her apartment—as she had been for the last couple of weeks. That's the time when the chief redactor of the rock magazine, Strings'n'Drums, came in with a few friends. After they had a fair amount of drinks, Lucy worked up the courage to talk to them. One thing leading to another, he had decided to give her a chance in order to get 'his damn feminist wife off his back'. If she could write a good article about Levy McGarden, she would get a place in the magazine.

She felt uncomfortable right now, not only because she highly doubted her chance of joining the magazine, but also because of the clothes she was wearing. Most girls of her age would have been uncomfortable in revealing clothes, but not Lucy. As long as she wasn't dressed with as little as a stripper, she was fine. No. Lucy's problem was with formal wear. She was currently clad in a pair of brown pants with a white button-down shirt. The pants didn't stick to her hips well like bell-bottom jeans, and not feeling the material on her skin made her uneasy. The shirt was even worse. She was afraid any of her movement would wrinkle it and make it look like she came out of a storm. Comfort be damned, she needed to look professional. Worst of all, she barely had time to put on elaborate make up, just a bit of foundation and a light pink lipstick. She really hoped she didn't look too awful.

She had fallen asleep while reading the file. She didn't prepare a lot of questions to ask the photographer, so she hoped the latter's answers would give her ideas for a few more things to ask. That was if Levy McGarden was indeed coming. Lucy was staring at the window hoping to see someone who might be her. Her first hope had come in the form of a tall woman with long black hair, wearing a suit made for ladies, but she didn't even look at the bar. Then, there was a pretty blonde in a blue dress who was walking towards the bar shining with confidence, but she stopped in front of a man who was leaning against the wall. Then, Lucy saw a woman in her late fifties walking down the street in the latest fashion, but before she could entertain the thought if she was the one she was waiting for, she heard a sweet voice ask, "Are you Lucy?"

She jumped at the sound and found herself in front of a girl who looked to young to be in a bar. "Yes, I am."

The young girl extended her hand, "Levy McGarden." She said. Lucy shook her hand and she sat down.

Levy McGarden had a messy blue bob that made her look like Debbie Harry, except for the much more rounded face of the girl. Her pale skin, small nose, and big cheeks gave her the appearance of a child. And this aspect was very accentuated by the lack of curves along her body. She wore an orange shirt with rounded long sleeves and a turned up collar. It seemed to be the perfect choice for someone as flat chested as her. Her dark green miniskirt showed off her slim legs, which seemed to be long for someone of her height. Her legs were covered in cotton tights and she also wore high heels matching respectively her shirt and her skirt. Lucy admired this girl who had the courage to walk around in a miniskirt in winter and at the same time, couldn't help but feel sorry that even with her incredibly high heels, she was barely 5 feet tall.

The waiter came to their table to take their orders, of which, Miss McGarden ordered hot black coffee. The waiter asked if they wanted anything else, and they shook their heads, and the waiter went on his way.

"You seem a bit tense," Levy stated.

"It's my first interview," Lucy admitted shyly.

"Don't worry. It's my first, too." She said kindly.

Her kind smile got Lucy to start "How would you describe your work?" she breathed out.

Miss McGarden looked thoughtful "My work, hmm, well...I couldn't say what the work is like if I'm the only one who's doing it the way I do." Lucy's anxiety kicked back in, what if all her questions were as bad as this one? "You see, I listen to the music the band makes and then I try to find the moment that would illustrate it the best. That's why I prefer to hang around the bands instead of asking them to pose in a studio."

"And you get to do that a lot? Hanging around the band, I mean."

"Yeah, kind of. I ask them if I could and most of the time they say yes. Sometimes, I'm following them on tour and I notice that one of my pictures would make a good cover, so I'd keep it on the side."

"Did you always work that way or did you realise it was better later on?"

"Both actually. You see, when I came to London, I shared a flat with musicians and sometimes, I find good pictures to make of them. So when one of them got a contract with a record company, I gave them a few of the pictures I took and if they liked some, they become the album covers. The same happened when others got their contracts. This led to the record company hiring me to take pictures of other bands for their albums or on their tours."

Lucy scribed quickly everything she said and asked, "Who was the first one?"

"Natsu Dragneel."

Lucy immediately looked up at the girl. She knew very well who Natsu Dragneel was. His last album had stayed on the top spot of charts for months. He is one of the most famous singers in the world for five years already. His habit to wear leather and to set things on fire during concerts had earned him the nickname of Salamander. She knew the album covers; she owned all of them. The first one was in black and white; it was him, sitting on a ripped couch, playing his guitar. It was a great picture, and there was something about the look in his eyes as he gazed at his strings that Lucy couldn't define. It was intriguing, and it was one of the reasons why she had bought this album.

"I have his albums. All of them are great. Did you make all of his album covers?"

"Yes." As she answered, Miss McGarden puffed out her chest.

"And what do you like the most about your job?"

"Doing what I want. I mean, I don't choose who I'm going to shoot, but I choose how and which pictures will be shown to the producer. It's not like working in a factory or you know, I'm not just doing what my boss wants me to do. I'm free."

Lucy envied her, but she was hoping she could soon make a similar statement. She wondered how it would be like, to feel free, really free.

"Who do you like to work with the most?"

The petite girl put her hand on her chin and frowned. Several times, she opened her mouth to say something but closes it immediately, and her frown deepens. Finally, she said, "I'd say the less annoying is Gra—I mean, John Fool. He lets me do my job."

"Who's the worst?" asked Lucy with more interest than professionalism.

"I'd say Cana Alberona, from The Drunks. And that's because she's always trying to get me drunk."

Lucy couldn't help but notice that those two artists were matching their reputation. John Fool was known to be very pragmatic and Cana Alberona to be a high-level alcoholic, which was where the name of her blues band stemmed from.

"Which one of your pictures made you the most proud?"

"From Smoke," Lucy immediately knew that she was referring to the Fernandez album. The cover picture showed Fernandez jumping, his guitar in his hands, during a concert. "I know all I did was take the picture at the right moment but," she marked a pause, "it's the best picture I ever took." A smile formed on her lips and all the pride she had for the picture could be seen on it.

"How do you choose between a colour and black and white photograph?"

The young photographer went on about all the different reasons. As she took notes, Lucy recognised herself in the passion the other girl was showing toward her discipline. There was a light in the girl's eyes and she wondered if it appeared in her own when talking about literature.

Lucy asked her a fair number of technical questions even though she had the feeling the readers of Strings'n'Drums would be more interested with which musicians Miss McGarden was concerned with. She then went on to talk about the different musicians she had worked with, and it so happened that the girl was always able to recognise a bit of their music in her picture, something Lucy was sure she'd use in her article. The number of famous singers that the photographer had worked with impressed her. She knew almost every great artist of their time.

This forced another question to spill out of Lucy's mouth, "How did you come to meet all of them?" Not that she doubted Miss McGarden's talents but for most of them, she had made the covers of their very first albums.

Miss McGarden chuckled, "Well…actually we used to live together." The look in Lucy eyes was enough for her to understand the next question, she immediately answered, "We came from the same town and we all wanted to go to London to start our careers, so we went together and none of us could pay a rent own our own so—you could guess what happened."

Lucy got the idea. It was like in a novel she read about three years ago, except that it had a tragic end. The story of all those artists seemed to be going fine and finer. The teens in her book never got to fame, no. Too many rivalries, love stories, and disenchantments came their way.

The interview went on. Lucy started asking more questions about the girl's life. She was amused to learn that it was Natsu Dragneel who had suggested to use the picture that she took of him on his first album's cover. Lucy had to keep herself from laughing when learning that he did that because it was out of his laziness rather than spending a day with a professional studio photographer. She knew more funny stories than inspiring ones. Soon, Lucy couldn't control her laughter and after one of the anecdotes, the rest of the bar had their eyes on them, shocked by the loud sound coming out of Lucy's mouth. No one made remarks, some even smiled at their antics.

When Lucy was done with her question, she couldn't help but make a subtle remark about the resemblance between their conversation with the book she had read. To her surprise, instead of asking her what she meant, Miss Mcgarden asked Lucy if she had read said book. Lucy quickly found out that it was one of Levy's favourites. This jolted Lucy, as this book had never been a bestseller. It had actually never been popular. Only bookworms like her would know about it.

Question after question, reference after reference, quote after quote, the two girls had grown closer and closer. At some point, they exchanged some of the books they always carried around with them. They had this same look on their face—the one of absolute delight of finally meeting someone who can connect with you. This was the most entertaining conversation Lucy ever had in her life so far. With every exchange, the list she had in her head of books she should read just had gotten longer. But she didn't only learn about books. While Lucy liked music a lot, she didn't have anywhere near the knowledge the photographer had about it. Everything the petite girl said Lucy kept in her mind. If she was to get this job, it would become incredibly useful.

"Where do you live, by the way?" Levy asked

Lucy hesitated, she was a bit embarrassed of the very small flat where she lived. Nevertheless, she was feeling very comfortable with the girl, and before she could stop herself, she told her where she lived.

The other girl burst in laughter. Lucy's cheeks started to burn, overwhelmed with a feeling of shame and all she wanted to do was run away. Until she heard Levy say, "That's where we used to live!"

It took a moment for Lucy to process this information. The photographer didn't notice, as she was lost in her laughter. Lucy couldn't believe that several persons who lived in that crappy building ever did something big out of their lives. Yet now, that she knows of it, there was this wonderful girl and some of the most popular musicians of their time.

Lucy was about to voice her enthusiasm at the news, when the size of her flat came back to her mind, and made her realise there was some sort of dissonance in what her interviewee was saying. "Hang on, I thought you said you lived there with several musicians, and not just Natsu Dragneel?"

Levy signalled her to wait with her hand while she took control of her laugh. Once she had, she told Lucy, "The flat of the third and fourth floors are a duplex. That's where we lived. We were a bit cramped but we managed, at least when Cana wasn't drunk."

"You mean that among the people you lived with, there was both Natsu Dragneel and Cana Alberona?!"

"Yeah, if you're interested, there was also Erza Scarlet, Gra- John Fool, and The Strausses."

That meant eight persons had been living in a place twice the size of her flat. That was the equivalent of four persons in a flat where she already thought is too small for one. "How long did that last?"

"Well, Natsu left after six months, Erza…a month after him I think. John and Cana didn't take long either. I left a few weeks after her, and well, The Strausses couldn't afford that flat with only the three of them, so they left around the same time as I did."

She understood that the time gap between each of them coincided with when each of them had started off their careers. There was something that made Lucy a bit uncomfortable, but she wasn't sure if she should ask. To be honest, asking the question seemed just as embarrassing as the thought. Levy must have noticed Lucy's unease because she asked her nicely, "What is it?"

"Didn't you feel, I mean, wasn't it awkward to live with three boys?"

"Oh," she reacted before saying, "I was used to having boys around, especially them. We were all in the same orphanage."

Lucy felt very sad upon hearing this. It wasn't the same type of sadness you'd feel when hearing about orphans. It was a sadness that came from the idea that someone this kind would have such a terrible start in life.

"Oh no, don't be sad!" the photographer said immediately, "The orphanage was great, really! The owner was a former musician and the nicest person I've ever met in my entire life. Honestly, it was more like a bunch of friends living together, and it feels like a real family, even if it's a bit weird."

Lucy didn't know if she should believe her or not, but the sincerity in her eyes seemed true.

"Can I put this in the article?"

"It's your article."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: Releina Artemis Rockfeller

Lucy was nervous. The chief editor had read and published her article. He had actually said, "That's not bad", and he had given her a band to interview. That's why she was now nervous. She had never heard of that band before. The name was Rust. All she knew was that she had to interview two of their members whose names were Gajeel Redfox and Juvia Lockser. The name Rust, made her think that it had to be a rock band, but the presence of a girl in the band made her doubt. Unless she was the singer, Lucy had never seen a rock band with a girl where she wasn't a singer. It still didn't tell her what this band did or who they were.

Her lack of knowledge made her uncomfortable towards having to do an interview. The thought that she made a fool of herself was the only thing on her mind since she had gotten the job. She had come up with more than a hundred ways she could make herself look bad and yet, she was still finding new ones. In between two impossible scenarios, she thought she could call Levy, who had given her her phone number after their interview. But the fact that she had only met the girl once made her think that maybe she shouldn't, but at the same time, Levy was the only person she knew in London.

Her need to talk to someone overpowered her fear and she picked up the phone. It rang once, twice, and by the third time, she almost hung up; after the fourth, she heard Levy's voice in the phone saying, "Hello?"

"Hey... um... it's Lucy."

"Oh Lucy! How are you doing?" said Levy with clear enthusiasm in her voice.

"I'm fine... more or less."

"What do you mean?" Levy asked with concern.

"Oh, it's just... I was given a band to interview and I've never heard of them before." Lucy explained.

"When are you supposed to interview them?" Levy asked sounding worried.

"In a week."

There were a few seconds of silence then laughter erupted from the phone. "You've got enough time to figure out who they are then." She gave a relieved sigh, " So just calm down. Who's the band anyway?"

"Uh... Rust?"

"Oh." The tone of her voice showed that she knew the band and didn't had the best opinion of them.

"They're bad?"

"Well, no... yes, uhm... it depends? Musically speaking, they're not bad... they're a bit like The Stooges." She paused, obviously waiting to see if Lucy knew them.

"I don't know them." She admitted.

"It's not for everybody. The problem with Rust, well, the leader at least, is how aggressive he is. A friend of mine was supposed to do their cover. He said something the leader didn't like and got punched in the face. He ended up with a black eye."

Lucy got tensed upon hearing this. Her job was, after all, to ask questions. Levy reassured her that it would be fine, but the photographer herself didn't seem to believe it. Lucy thought of asking her boss to give her something else, but: one, it would probably cost her her job; and two, she would never have the courage to actually do so. Resigned to her fate, Lucy ended the conversation. After promising that she'd tell Levy everything about how the interview went over drinks, Lucy headed to the record store.

The closest one was two blocks away. It made the corner of the street. The large window and great light allowed Lucy to see that it had a large variety of stocks and that there weren't too many people in. She walked through the glass doors of the store and was met by music she immediately recognised to be from John Fool's latest album. The inner walls were covered with posters of bands and record labels, some of them had been graphitised, as she noticed in particular the 'Great Tale Record' that had been turned into 'Great Tails Record'.

Her first instinct was to go toward the different shelf, but she stopped herself realising she didn't even know which genre of music Rust was. She had no other choice than to ask one of the attendants. She walked towards one who wasn't currently busy, repeating in her head again and again the correct question she had to ask. She then asked the attendant with a voice not as strong as she would have wished.

"Excuse me, do you have any Rust album?"

The man's eyes grew wide and he looked at her from head to toe. Then with a questioning look on his face he indicated that she'd find them at the back section of the store. Embarrassed, Lucy hurried to the back of the store. She went to the R section of the shelf and looked through the records. The first Rust album she found was entitled Noise. On the cover, we could see the upper part of a man and a woman in front of a white background. The man was on the right, he had rather long black hair and a threatening look on his face. He wasn't attractive, unlike the girl on his right. She had a very pale skin and hair was just as long as her partner's, but it was ruined by the inexpressive look on her face. She turned it around and was surprised to find that it only had eight songs. She bought it and hurried home to listen to it.

Levy was right, Rust's music was not for everyone. Lucy wasn't sure if it was for her. There had always been violence in rock music, but Lucy had never felt so much coming from it before. The guitar had been distorted to a level she didn't even know was possible, the bass was barely audible under the other instrument, and the percussions rarely actually used the drums and instead focused on the cymbals. After the first song, she had thought that the album was well-titled.

Her first listening left her feeling uncomfortable, but she noticed that her retreat towards the music had kept her from listening to the lyrics. She immediately put it back on, this time focusing her hears on the singing. The voice was very low which didn't really go well with the music. The lyrics weren't mindblowing either, but they had the same violence as the instrumentation. The songs were full of anger, spitting hatred on almost everything in this world. The last song in particular was far less subtle than the rest and was obviously against record companies. Lucy guessed they must have had problems with theirs, and she took note of that. The third song caused her trouble. The singer kept attacking 'the system' but she couldn't quite figure out what this word referred to; it could have been society, as all but the lyrics seemed to be attacking something in particular, but Lucy had no idea what that was.

During her third listening, Lucy took a look at the composition of the band, which was written with very small letters in the right corner of back of the album. She found the name of the two members she would be interviewing. She was a bit surprised, even though the low voice she had heard should have been an indicator, she saw that Juvia Lockser was not the singer of the band, but the bassist. The vocalist and guitarist was Gajeel Redfox, who she guessed was the man on the cover. The drummer was only called Aria. As he didn't appeared on the cover, she guessed he was just a studio musician. While she wasn't sure she liked their music, she had to admit she was quite intrigued by this band. She wanted to do research on them. She promised herself she would focus on that until the day of the interview.

The day came, and even with all the information she had gathered about them, Lucy was still worried that her questions might all be stupid and missing the mark. She hadn't known what to wear and had simply put on the same clothes as when she interviewed Levy. It went so well with her, so Lucy hoped the clothes could give her luck, if not comfort. A part of her wanted to stay a little longer on the floor of the apartment in which the interview would take place, but another part of her was a bit scared of the old man standing on the stairs behind her, who had not stopped staring at her since she got here. Also the crack right next to the door and the water that dropped from the ceiling onto the radiator under the window made her uneasy. The outside of the building was just as welcoming as the inside. She had checked the address three times before entering, and had only stopped thinking she had gotten it wrong when she saw the names 'Redfox-Lockser' on one of the mailboxes.

After two deep breaths, and realising the bell wasn't working, she knocked on the door. When nothing happened, she tried to listen on the door. She could hear the faint sounds of pacing, but nothing indicated that the door would be opened. She knocked a little stronger, four times, before the door swung open and the word "What!" was shouted at her face.

Lucy flinched and with a weak hesitant voice, she said, "I'm here for the interview?"

"What interview," answered angrily Gajeel Redfox. Lucy noticed he had a small Scottish accent.

A voice, coming from someone Lucy couldn't see, but that she guessed must be Juvia Lockser's said, "Jose told us there'd be an interview today for Strings'n'Drums."

Gajeel Redfox turned towards the inside of the apartment with a frown on his face, then with the corner of his eyes he looked at her. He let out an "Alright," before moving back in. Lucy took this as an invitation to come in, and with a great wariness, she passed through the door.

This looked more like a dump than an apartment. There were clothes everywhere; leftover food could be found on every furniture that was seemingly shaped like a table; she could actually see dust in the air, and the smell indicated her that the sink was clogged. Lucy saw Juvia Lockser sliding different garbages off a seat, before proceeding to sit on a dirty and garbage-marred couch, onto which Gajeel Redfox was already seated. Lucy took her seat, trying her best to not be squeamish. She took out her notepad and pen. She noticed her hands were shaking. She gave a strong squeeze on her working tools, hoping it to help her.

She looked at the two musicians sitting across her. The man was sitting lazily and giving her a mean look. His hair were a mess, coming out at every angle. There was a stain on his grey t-shirt, and his jeans were ripped off on the knees. Next to him, Juvia Locsker had her legs glued to each other, her hand resting on them. She wore a deep blue jumper, and wore simple black pants underneath. Her face didn't show any emotion and she looked right through her, not at her, which somehow made Lucy feel even more uncomfortable than the way Gajeel Redfox looked at her.

She took a look at her list of questions before looking up and saying, with more confidence than she had thought herself capable of, "Mister Redfox..."

"She knows respect," Mr. Redfox interrupted her, his eyes slightly wider.

"Mist..." she swallowed, "Mister Redfox, Miss Lockser, what exactly got both of you into music?"

Gajeel frowned. There were a few seconds that passed before Juvia answered, "It's the only thing we're good at."

Lucy wanted to press them into telling her that there must be something more, something of a greater importance that had gotten them on that path, but the looks they were giving her told her that indeed that was it. They were just two kids who, being good at literally nothing else, had found no other option than trying this direction.

"You must have had some apprehension towards this line of work. How close to reality were they?"

"Pretty close," answered the singer.

"Could you elaborate please?"

He rolled his head like teenager being asked to clean his room. he sighed heavily, then grunted, "They're assholes."

Lucy frowned, but before she could ask who he was referring to, the last song on their album came to her mind, and it made her ask, "You mean the producer?" The look he gave her indicated her that she had just stated something that, to him, was obvious. "Were they keeping you from including things you wanted or forcing you into putting things you didn't want in your songs?"

He made a sound of annoyance before saying "Both. Half the stuff I wanted to do, they didn't like and the other half had to be adjusted." He spat out that last word like a curse.

"Did it have a big repercussion on the final album?"

He sighed angrily then with a barely audible voice he said, "It's not what I wanted."

She knew he wouldn't tell her more, even though she would have liked to know what he would have liked to make. She knew it would have to be for another time. She looked back on her list of questions and crossed out 'what were you trying to do with that album'.

She looked straight at the girl, and it immediately sent shivers down her spine. She swallowed and looked to the other girl's emotionless eyes and asked "Miss Lockser—"

"Don't call me that," There was a slight anger in her voice which, oddly, relieved Lucy, as it proved that the girl did have feelings.

"Yeah, it's getting annoying." Added the man.

"Okay, uhm, Juvia?" the girl didn't give her any indication that this satisfied her, but as she didn't make any remark either, Lucy decided to go with it. "Did you encounter any problems with the producer due to the fact that you are a female musician? I know there aren't lot of them."

"I punched a guy in the face. It solved the problem." She said this as if she was reading the dictionary.

Lucy was a little shocked by this, her thought went back to the friend of Levy who had gotten punched in the face, but she remembered that the one responsible for this assault had been a man, she could guess who. Still, the part of her that had been raised to be a good little girl couldn't believe that a woman could be capable of punching a guy in the face, slapping maybe, but punching, no. Yet when she looked at the woman in front of her, there was no doubt that what she had given was indeed a punch. Lucy didn't know if she should feel admiration or fear towards her.

She recovered from her shock and decided to change the topic, "Where, I mean, how did you learn music?" she asked with a tone she couldn't seem to hold in place.

"In the attic." The answer of the man made Lucy frown, "There were instruments over there."

"You're self-taught?"

"Yeah."

Lucy marked a pause, she didn't really know what to ask next. She then realised that this answer gave her a way to move to another topic she had found during her research on them.

"When you say in the attic, you speak of the attic in one of your foster homes?"

The guitarist visibly tensed, and the girl didn't stay impassive. He was the one who spoke with a threatening voice, "Yeah."

"Am I wrong to assume that this is what you talked about in your song 'It's Broken'?"

"No."

This proved her hypothesis, which she had developed during her investigation, was right, and that the system they so violently attacked was indeed the foster care system. Happy that her conjecture was correct, she asked, "This moving around from one home to another must have been quite tough for you. Do you blame the government for it?"

"I blame the government for a lot things." The man answered coldly.

Lucy bit her lips "This must have been a terrible experience, can you tell me more about it?"

"No." He answered with an arched tone.

"But it must have shaped—"

"No." This time it sounded like a warning.

"Don't you want to speak about this experience?"

"Our lives weren't that bad," This time, it's the girl who answered, forcing Lucy to look at her. With no indication that Juvia actually cared, she continued, "Most people in Africa spend their entire life starving, with no hope of things ever getting better, and war coming to their doors every two months. So, our lives weren't that bad. I don't see what the fuss is about."

Suddenly Lucy felt very much ashamed. It hadn't occurred to her that they might not want to talk about those things. Whenever something bad happened to her, her first reflex was to talk or to complain about it. Lucy thought that it probably had to do with their different upbringing. With the easy life she had lived up until now, the smallest things were, to her, of the utmost importance. With the tough life they had lived, the hardest things were, to them, only basic inconvenience.

She didn't press on the subject. She asked them instead what their influences were. She wasn't surprised to hear that The Stooges' albums had been a revelation to them. They also told her they really liked Gildarts Clive, and quickly afterwards told her not to put that in her article because it could get them into even more problems with their producers. Lucy understood, after all, Gildarts Clive was a Great Tales Record artist, and Rust's firm was their competitor, but the glares she received were what truly convinced her to not mention this slip in her article.

She tried to ask more music-related questions, but she didn't write that many as she expected them to speak mostly of their childhood. No matter the question she asked, she was lucky if she got an answer of more than one word. She ended the interview sooner than she would have thought. The man punctuated this end with a "Finally" and the girl simply stood up and walked to another room without much life. No one walked her to the door and Lucy walked fast on the street. As she did, she thought of what she could write about them.

She didn't have that much material to work with. She couldn't help but think they had a great story they refused to tell. She could guess the great line from what she knew, but without the detail, all you get is a summary. She could describe them as poor souls trying to find their place in this world, but she knew they wouldn't like it. And when she thought more about it, they didn't really look like poor souls. No, they didn't take pity on themselves and didn't want others to do so. They were more like outlaws trying to turn a world who didn't want them into their own. Lucy smiled as she thought that she had found her title, "The Outlaws of the Music World."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked this.You might have notice that Juvia doesn't speack to the third person in this, I only have one explaination: this is an AU, I hope you don't mind


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was beta by Releina Artemis Rockfeller

Her article about Rust had been a success. Their sales spiked and she won the respect of her boss. She was now, in his eyes, an aspiring journalist like any other. Thanks to Levy’s help, she was managing to get more work done. Having someone to talk to about the new music she listened to helped her find the right words to put in her articles. But where Levy really came in handy was when it came to getting interviews. Sometimes, the record company would ask for the magazine to interview one of their artists, but sometimes, the magazine had to go ask for interview themselves. Lucy had just mentioned to Levy that she’d like to interview John Fool, and she had immediately been given his personal phone number and a recommendation on what to ask for the interview. She hoped one day she’d be able to repay her for all this.

She had still been anxious when passing the call, but the word came out of her mouth correctly, and John Fool acted just like Levy said he would, with great politeness. Lucy wouldn’t have expected this of him, seeing as many of his songs were rather provocative. But Levy had assured her that while he could be very bold and sometimes rude, he was always polite, somehow. Unless, of course, something was done to upset him. Lucy had a hard time believing this, but she trusted Levy.

The interview had been scheduled in a restaurant in the centre of London. It was a nice place; the big window allowed a lot of light in, which reflected on the white floor and walls. The brightness of the room suited the blue tablecloth and the wooden chairs. The few modern paintings on the walls made Lucy feel at ease. She told a waiter she had a reservation, and he guided her to the table where she was surprised to see that she had not arrived first.

John Fool was sitting there quietly, his chin was resting on his hand and his eyes were closed. His black hair hadn’t been brushed and his white shirt looked like it came out a tornado. His face was peaceful and his eyes only half opened when he heard the sound of her chair being pulled. He straightened as she sat and with the best respect of the etiquette saluted her. She returned the politeness and they ordered something to drink.

He introduced himself just as politely as he previously had, if not for the fact that he didn’t gave her his real name, something she could forgive as she was here to interview the artist which made his stage persona more fitting. She introduced herself while taking out her notepad and pen.

She didn’t get to ask the first question. As soon as she was done introducing herself, he asked her, “You’re a friend of Levy?”

“Yes, we met when I interviewed her,” she answered having understood what he was truly asking.

“She must really like you. She wouldn’t have given you my number otherwise.”

Lucy smiled as a way of answering him. She knew that the closeness she had developed with Levy was one others took years to develop. In a way, we could say that it was friendship at first sight.

“May we start the interview?” she asked kindly. He nodded and she read the first question she had planned, “You just came back from your first world tour. How was it?”

“Very interesting, but mostly tiring. I had breaks in between concerts, but it felt like I was performing every night. Still, I really enjoyed meeting that many people and discovering all the cities that were in my tour.” He answered in a rather fast tempo.

“Would you say this experience brought you something?”

“Yes, definitely. Writing new songs in my apartment or a studio, is definitely not the same thing as writing while on tour.” He was still talking faster than normal; she guessed this must be how he always talked.

“How’s that?”

“You don’t sit down and start writing. You have a thousand new experience a day that you want to sing about, so you end up writing at anytime of the day, and in very uncomfortable positions. But you’re fine with it because—” he paused looking for the right word, “—well, you really want to do it.”

“You were having problems writing before the tour started.” It was more of a realisation than a question. But John answered anyway.

“Yeah, I was at a point were I was wondering if music really was the right thing for me. This made it clear: this is my way.”

Lucy felt comprehensive; the more she wrote, the more she felt like this was what she born to do.

“So we can expect a new album soon?”

He gave out a small laugh before saying “Soon enough, I hope.”

Her interview of Rust gave her an idea of what could be the reason behind the retarding of the album, but she wasn’t so sure. She counted to ten backwards in her head before asking in a small voice, “Problem with your producer? “ 

He let a small, sad smile appear on his face, “When isn’t there any? But it’s not such a bad thing, really.” Lucy was intrigued by this. “The fact that you can’t exactly do what you want pushes you to find other ways to make the feelings you want pass.” He stopped to think a moment, “Take my song ‘Winter Morning Lady’ for example. That song is about a prostitute. Though originally, the lyrics were full of sexual terms and violence, so my producer didn’t appreciate it, saying it was too graphic. So I had to rewrite the whole thing, which led me to think more about subtle ways to talk about the same subject. I also rewrote the music to make the song softer, and now it’s one of my biggest hits.”

Lucy wrote down everything he said with enthusiasm. She was impressed with this different way of facing constraints, finding a workaround, and not giving up on your original idea. She wondered if this could be applied to her everyday life.

She went on to ask him more questions about the process by which he writes songs. He gave her lengthy, elaborate answers that she had difficulty writing on her notepad, especially because all of his sentences were said in rushed way, as if he wanted to stop talking as soon as possible. His answers gave her lots of material to work with when writing her article, but if she ever interviewed him again, she’d have to buy a Dictaphone or else, she’ll never make it. She wanted to ask him why someone who wrote and sang so many slow songs had the need to speak this way, but she felt like it would come out as insulting so she didn’t dare.

After those long questions, she found herself without any transition for what she wanted to ask next. She gathered all the courage in her to ask him, “Can I ask you a few questions about before you started your career as John Fool?”

He looked a bit taken aback by her question. He sighed before saying, “If that’s what you want,” but she could tell that he didn’t want to answer the next questions. This hampered her will to probe further, but the job of a journalist was to ask people questions they didn’t want to be asked, so in a trembling voice she asked, “Why did you change your name?”

“Would you really listen to a guy named Gray Fullbuster?”

Oddly, he had pronounced this sentence at the same speed a normal person would have. The obvious answer was no. The name Gray could work, but Fullbuster? No one would ever listen to that. Still she asked, “Why change all the name?”

“I thought if I was going to change it, might as well change it entirely.”

Once again his talking speed was normal. “Your producer didn’t pressure you at all in that matter?”

“They were glad that they didn’t have to.”

“But you didn’t change it when you were a background musician?” His eyes widened slightly, “The name Gray Fullbuster appears on the back of the album of other artists for whom you’ve played.”

“Well, at that time, it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t my name on the cover.”

“Did you enjoy working for other musicians?”

“Depends on which one,” He paused, “Gildarts was great. Working with him was more like being his apprentice. He taught me a lot.” He went on to talk about how Gildarts Clive was a great man and telling the different ways in which the former had made him the musician he his today.

On one note, Lucy was surprised that this man, who didn’t seem comfortable with opening up, was telling her these personal things. On another note, she was more intrigued by the way he spoke of the other man. His speech wasn’t the one he used to talk about a mentor but more for a family member. If it hadn’t been for the way Gray, or John, had been speaking of such personal things with her, Lucy would never have dared to ask him, “Do you think of Gildarts Clive as a father?”

He immediately frowned but took a minute to think before answering. “No, that’s definitely not it. He’s important to me and we do have a close friendship but he’s not like a father to me. He’s more like an uncle, I think.” He looked down as if he was unsure of something. “I had a father and he was great man. I don’t need another one.”

“Could you tell me more about your father?” The words left her mouth before she could ask herself if saying them were acceptable. The look that appeared on the man’s face told her that they weren’t. A great feeling of guilt and embarrassment swelled within her, and she wished she could erase this instant from reality.

“I don’t think it would interest you or your readers.” He said, but it sounded more like an excuse to keep himself from revealing anything.

And now, the fight between her curiosity and her embarrassment started. Both feelings tried to overcome the other, one emotional wave overlapping with another; an inner argument crashing within her in the form of thoughts. Her eyes swept over the man’s body, trying to read any indication of what she should do, until in a flash, a voice struck her with a challenge. She looked at her drink and told him, “I’ll be the judge of that.”

He sighed heavily; he now had no excuse to protect him and was forced to talk. For an instant, Lucy felt even more guilty about pushing him that way. “My father was a working class man,” his diction was slow, and his tone unsure, “that’s the best way to describe him. He worked all day and all night but never complained. I looked up to him, “ he paused, “I still do. One day, there was an accident at the factory, and that’s it.”

She wrote down slower than he spoke. She could tell those were private information that should never have been heard. While a good part of her guilt came from forcing his hand, another smaller but more intense part of it came from the feeling that she had not only hurt the man in front of her but also the one who wasn’t here. She had never looked up to her father. She had never spoken kindly of him, and sometimes she had even wished he wasn’t her father. It felt like cheating, that someone like her, who could never understand this feeling, was opened a door toward it. She felt like she had stolen the most precious jewel Gray had ever owned. 

Only the memory of her mother, Layla, calmed her, as it was the closest experience she had. Maybe in a way, it was same? Of course, losing someone you unconditionally love hurts, but it doesn’t hurt in the same way as losing someone you loved and saw as a role model. Lucy loved and admired her mother, but she had always thought of herself as different, her mother made sure of that. Layla taught Lucy that she was to follow her own path and not to follow the former. Could the pain be the same? Maybe all pains were the same. Maybe when one suffered that kind of pain, one can never tell what was more painful.

Lucy swallowed her thoughts and reminded herself of where she was. “Sorry to force your hand.”

“It’s okay, it’s your job.”

She nodded numbly, and started asking the few questions she had planned but hadn’t come to ask yet. In his now fast and less interesting answers, she found herself capable of forgetting her previous embarrassment. 

The interview ended rather nicely. She thanked Gray for his time and he answered that he wouldn’t mind being interviewed by her again. She accepted the compliment with a serious blush. They shook hands and parted ways.

Once she was back at her apartment, she quickly got to work on her article with more excitement than ever. It was most likely because of the compliment she had received. She hadn’t gotten much lately, aside from the man that would catcall her in the street, but that didn’t really make her feel better about herself. 

With a good mood, she went through her notes, thinking of what should be put where, and how she would word some of her thoughts on the musician. Things were adding up nicely; she heard her own voice humming through her work, and a small smile crept on her face. The more she worked, the happier she felt...until she found her notes about Gray’s father. 

She stopped what she was doing and leaned back on her chair, her own arm holding her. Her face contorted into a frown and sighed. Her father. She didn't even leave him a note before leaving her childhood home. In the middle of night. Without notifying anyone. She wondered if he was worried. Probably. That’s how any father would be in the same situation. Right?

She thought she should call him. Tell him that she was okay. She had left months ago, and whatever anger he might have felt towards her disappearance must have faded by now. Yes, at this point, he was probably only worried about her. His lack of attention for her didn’t give her the right to worry him any more than she already had. 

She picked up the phone and called the house. The line rang. She wondered if they had been anxiously waiting her call. Was leaving truly the right thing to do if it caused this many people pain? 

The phone stopped ringing and a voice she knew to be the one of the family butlers answered, “Heartfilia Residence, what can I do for you?”

“Caprico? It’s me Lucy,” she said into the phone.

“Miss Lucy! What a pleasure to finally hear from you. Is everything all right?” Worry could be heard in the man's voice, which saddened her for leaving them. 

“Everything is fine, I was just calling to talk to my father.” 

Soon a hard voice could be heard into the phone, “Lucy?” said her father.

“Yes Father, how are you?”

“How am I? You left in the middle of night months ago, then you ask me how I am.” His tone wasn’t calm.

“I’m sorry, I know I’ve upset you.”

“Upset me? You think you’ve upset me!?” His voice had become the one he’d always use to scold her, “Do you have any idea what situation you’ve put me?!”

“I’m sorry,” the tears that were forming in her eyes could be heard in her voice as it cracked, “I just—“

“You just what? Thought it would be fun to run off like a hooligan!? I don’t know what you were thinking when you left and I don’t want to know. You will come back home this instant!”

“I—” her voice got caught in her throat, “I can’t.” she managed to say nonetheless.

“You can’t?! Ridiculous. You can and you will! I demand you back in this house by the end of the week, is that clear?”

“But—“

“Lucy, you can either come home your own way or I can send someone to bring you back. Either way, I’ll be waiting for you at home.” He said before hanging up.

Still holding the phone in her hand, Lucy felt like a little girl again. The little girl whose only conversation with her father consisted in him giving her orders or reprimanding her. She had rarely said anything to him because, of the few times she actually did, he didn’t listen and she ended up in tears. 

She had tears right now but none falling, just staying at the rims of her eyelids. A couple of swipes from her hand got them out without her needing to cry. She wondered why she called, why she thought he would be worried. Maybe his ruthless demeanour was his way of showing he was. 

She lay down in her bed, and for the rest of the day, she didn’t work, she didn’t eat, she didn’t got off her bed. She just laid there, replaying her conversation with her father in her head, thinking of what she could have said that might make him understand her. But deep inside, she felt that no matter what she says, he wouldn’t listen to her. He would have just ordered her around like he always did. But this time, he didn’t just bossed her, he threatened her. 

What now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. You can leave a comment with your though if you want


	4. Chapter 4

Her dad’s phone call was still troubling Lucy. She didn’t know how she managed to fall asleep in this predicament. Her body probably decided on its own that it needed to rest. Her mind, however, didn’t forget her problem, and her dreams—in a mingle of memories and nightmarish thoughts—kept her afraid of what was to come. Her father had always been this powerful figure to her, someone against whom she couldn’t do anything but obey. 

She spent hours thinking of what she had done wrong before she was finally able to look forward and think about what she should do now; to this question, she found no answer. A part of her thought that the best she could do was stay here and wait for her father to come, enjoy a few more moments of freedom, before returning home. But she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to return home; she wanted her own life.

However, she could wish all she wanted, but it wouldn’t change her situation. It wouldn’t at all. This could only be achieved through action, but she didn’t know how to react. She had no idea what she could do to save herself. Somewhere in the midst of terrified thoughts, she realised that she needed help. So she picked up the phone and called Levy.

She didn’t explain the situation to her friend. She just told her that she had a problem and she needed someone to talk to. The photographer immediately suggested a meeting place and asked Lucy when would be the best time to meet, to which the only answer was as soon as possible. Levy proposed to meet this afternoon in a bookshop she had just discovered.

When Lucy got there, she was thankful for her friend’s choice. While no one would have expected to find a bookshop in this street—which looked more like a dark alley—the shop in itself was rather welcoming. The lights were warm and the smell of coffee mixed with the one of old books put Lucy at ease. The shop wasn’t large; one could hardly take more than two steps to the left, but it was long, from the entrance, Lucy couldn’t see where it ended. Bookshelves ran from the bottom to the top of the wall, and in the middle of the room, a long table was covered with books. Apart from the bookseller (an old man sitting behind a small desk at the entrance), there didn’t seem to be anyone else in the shop. For a moment, all thoughts of her father deserted Lucy’s mind and only her hunger for new books filled her. 

“Lucy,” a voice whisper-shouted, and the blonde saw the silhouette of Levy at the back of the shop. After many steps on the creaking parquet, she reached her friend, who greeted her warmly. Lucy noticed the book in her friend’s hands and asked her about it. The other girl went on to explain the plot and how the writing was unique and immersing. Lucy listened carefully to her and made a mental note to buy this book. What Levy described made her think of another book she had read so she told her friend about it. They went on advising each other on books until Levy remembered why they had decided to meet today. “Okay, what’s going on? You sounded really worried on the phone.” The small girl asked.

Lucy sighed heavily. For a moment there, she had forgotten about all her problems while talking with Levy, and now that it was coming back to her, she didn’t know how to talk about it. “It’s my father,” she started, unsure of herself, “...he’s… he’s an affluent person.” She stated, as though this information was important to understand her problem, “...and he doesn’t approve of me living here. He… I wasn’t be allowed to come here in the first place.” She hesitated before admitting, “...I left in the middle of the night. I didn’t tell him where I was, but I guess he knows now. I called him last night. He says I must come home at once or he’ll send people to bring me back.”

Levy looked at her, her eyebrows set in a frown, her mouth slightly agape, and she squinted toward the left bottom of her eyes before looking back at Lucy and asking, “Really?” 

“Yes.” said Lucy, hoping her friend would believe her.

The other girl’s mouth opened more and she straightened, “Okay,” she said, then bit her lips and looked around the store. She sighed and added, “...we’re going to figure this out. What did he say exactly and what did you say?”

Lucy had to replay the conversation so many times in her head that she recited it to her friend with more ease than she should have. Levy nodded along her tale, with every movement of her head, the small girl looked less worried. 

The photographer smiled and said, “He doesn’t know where you are and even if he follows through with his threat, it will take him probably a month before he actually figures out that you were here.”

Lucy guessed that this was supposed to make her feel better, but it didn’t. Knowing more approximately how much time she had left did little to reassure her. She could already imagine the days ahead of her when she would be stuck with the thought of what was coming, unable to fully enjoy the time she has left. She didn’t want that, but she could see no solution; nothing she could say would change her father’s mind. She had to resolve to the fact that in a few weeks, her father would drag her back home. 

“What do I do then?”

Levy twisted her lips, “You’re not at home?” she suggested.

“Where do I go?”

Levy took a moment to think about her answer. During those few seconds, Lucy painted a scene in her head; her return home, where she could see herself stuck in a big house, where anyone would have dreamt to live in, but it truly was a prison to her—no matter how pretty this prison was—and this was what this house had been to her since the age of fifteen. She knew she wouldn’t ever be able to leave again after this recent stunt she pulled. She would probably always have someone in the room with her. Before Lucy could add to her line of thoughts, Levy brought her back to reality.

“Do you know about that music festival on the Isle of Wight?”

“The one this August? I’m supposed to go there for Strings’n’Drums.” Lucy stated, confused.

“That’s great! See, you won’t be home!” Answered her friend, smiling. “And if you don’t feel safe where you’re at, you can come to my place. Actually, it would be great if you crashed at my place ‘cause I’m not going to be there for a while and I need someone to water my plants.”

Lucy immediately forgot her problem, “You’re leaving?”

“I’m going to be following a band on tour for work. “ The girl got suddenly more active, “I need to tell you about that!” She stopped herself, “...but first, your problem. Are you cool with staying at my place? I mean, does that plus attending the festival make you feel better about all this?”

Lucy took a moment to consider, she had to admit the idea that she had somewhere to go where her father wouldn’t find her made her feel safer. “Yeah!”

“Great! And if your dad does force you to come back, I’ll call the police and they’ll arrest him for kidnapping.” She said with confidence.

“Errr, he’s my father.”

“And you’re an adult. He doesn’t have any right to impose things on you. Not anymore.”

She was an adult. Lucy kept forgetting that. Sometimes, she felt like she was still a teenager in an adult’s body, and her father had a knack for bringing this feeling out of her. While she should have felt relieved by the rightness of her friend’s statement, a pang of guilt came to her. She always thought that once she reached adulthood, she would be a confident, successful woman, and not a scared, struggling child. This betrayal towards her younger self was a tough blow but she couldn’t ponder on it right now. At the moment, she needs to acknowledge the fact that her age protected her from her father and that it was the first step towards becoming who she wanted to be.

Lucy sighed and let a grin appear on her face when she thought of what her father would look like if police barged in his house accusing him of abduction. 

“So what was that about you following a band?” Lucy asked.

Levy took a long breath before saying, “I’m supposed to follow Rust.” Lucy, remembering her last encounter with the band, felt bad for her friend. “It will be during their tour in England, it won’t be very long but still, I don’t know how things will go with them. What do you think? I mean, in that article you wrote, you spoke rather positively of them.”

Lucy was taken aback by the photographer’s request. She had never thought, that one day, in their relationship, she would be the one giving her that kind of advice. “Well…” she didn’t know how to explain the gap between what she thought of the band and how she felt about them. “They’re… they grew up in a very different condition from mine, maybe even yours, or most others.” She said slowly, “I respect them for that, for all they’ve been through. But… they are not easy to be around; the little time I’ve spent with them, they treated me like an enemy and I hadn’t done anything to them.” She saw the worriedness in her friend's eyes and she thought that she should tell her something reassuring but all she found was, “Oh, but they’ll make it clear if they don’t like something you do and you’ll simply not do it.”

“Are they going to let me do my job?” asked the smaller girl worriedly.

Lucy wanted to tell that, yes, they’ll let her do her job, but she couldn’t accept the idea to lie to her friend. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. She sighed heavily. “They have to understand that it’s just your job and that you have to do it… I think. I’m sorry I can't tell you much… I only got one interview with them. I don’t think that's enough time to really get to know them.”

“It’s okay,” said Levy, “they don’t have a good reputation but if I go in thinking that way, I’ll only make things worse. I’m just going to go there and treat them the same way I treat everyone I work with and… and if needed, I’ll make adjustments… and if it goes bad, well, I can’t leave because we’re on the road… ehh, but I’ll manage.” She affirmed with a weak smile, as if she was trying to console herself rather than Lucy.

Lucy felt bad for being unable to cheer up her friend. She thought she should say something that would prove that things were going to be okay, but she had no idea what to say. She wanted to tell her friend that she was a great photographer and that things would go smoothly, but while Lucy knew that Levy’s pictures were amazing, she had no idea how she really worked and if it would be possible with Rust. She wanted to say that she was a wonderful person and that she could win the hearts of anyone, even the defensive Gajeel Redfox and the emotionless Juvia Lockser, but Lucy also had a feeling that those two were not the kind to enjoy the presence of people like Levy. So all Lucy said was, “I’m sure you’ll pull through.” And gave a reassuring smile to her friend.

She thought about how hard the future weeks were going to be for Levy. She was probably going to feel so alone; she won’t get much, if any, social interaction from Rust. And she was going to be stuck here, with no escape, with no one to feel good with. Will she be able to enjoy her work in those conditions? Lucy knew the other girl loved her job because it gave fulfilment, freedom, and meetings with extravagant people. But Rust… the two she knew were closed on themselves and would never let the smaller girl just go around as she pleased, so how could she get any fulfilment this way? 

That’s when Lucy realised it—her friend was going to be crushed under pills of constraint, loneliness, and stress, so how could that be good news? Lucy hesitantly told her friend, “With a situation as bad as this, you’re probably going to give your best pictures.”

Levy looks at her friend quizzically before her eyes went wide and her lips pulled up into a smile, “You’re right! Some of the best pieces of art were made in terrible working conditions! Oh, I hope this will be it for me! Honestly, if it’s for the best of my art, I’d take any bad treatment.”

Seeing that her friend was less worried, she, herself, felt a great relief. She dearly hoped that they were right on this assumption. She, nevertheless, knew that things were not going to be fine. Levy’s pictures better be worth it. The devotion Levy had for her art was admirable, and Lucy knew it would be enough to make her live through whatever would happen to her now, but she couldn’t shake away the feeling that she didn’t deserve this. Her friend was such a kind and gentle soul, that people like her don’t deserve anything bad happening to them, and yet it always did. Her mother hadn’t done anything to deserve an unaffectionate husband. Or her sickness. And even through all that, she always managed to smile for her daughter.

“He would really do that?” Asked Levy, taking Lucy away from her thought.

“Sorry?” She chirped, confused over her friend’s question.

“Your father.” Levy explained, “He would really send someone to force you back home?”

An affirmative answer left Lucy’s mouth before she could even think about it; because she didn’t need to process it, she knew her father. She remembered every time she had allowed herself a bit of extravagance, of youthfulness, of personality, and how her father took it from her, and forbade her of ever recommencing. 

Levy stole her from her thoughts again as she stated, “You know, people always pity me for being an orphan, but when I see certain parents, I think I got off pretty good.”

Lucy chuckled at her friend’s words. She admitted to her that sometimes, she had wished she were an orphan. “I’ll be honest, when it comes to getting foster homes, it’s a lottery. You can get great places or terrible ones.”

“Much like with birth families, eh?” Answered Lucy in an amused tone. The two girls laughed heartily at this. “How…?” Lucy had to think of her words before asking her friend this question. She had been wondering about it since they first met. “How did you become an orphan?”

“My parents died in a car crash when I was a baby. I didn’t have any living relatives so…” She left the end of her sentence hanging, as she didn’t need to finish it. “But I got off really good. The orphanage was a great place, and I met all those kids that are like a family to me.” Her eyes widened as she suddenly remembered something, “Speaking of which, how would you feel about interviewing Natsu Dragneel?”

Excitement flew through Lucy’s body faster than she imagined it possible. “Natsu Dragneel? You can get me to interview him?”

“He asked for it!” said her friend with a great smile on her face.

“Really? But why? How?” asked Lucy, baffled.

“Well, you see, we were at a bar, with Gr—John Fool, and I asked him how your interview went. And he went on about how well it went and how nice you were. And then Natsu immediately asked why he didn’t get to be interviewed by you, and said that it wasn’t fair that John got to have the cool interviewer and he didn’t. Then he asked me to get an interview for him.”

“Really?” asked Lucy, who couldn’t believe her ears.

“Really!” said her friend eagerly. 

To say that Lucy was surprised was an understatement. She couldn’t believe that one of the best musicians of her time—one of her favourites, on top of that—wanted, had asked, for her to interview him. She was stunned, and was expecting to wake up in her bed any minute now. But she did not. Instead, she stared at her friend. She could feel her mouth opening but no sound seem to come out.

“Errr, do you want it or not?” inquired Levy, without losing her smile.

Lucy suddenly remembered how to breathe and let out a “Yes!” Then after clearing her throat and another breath, “Yeah, I really want to.”

“I’ll give you his number. Don’t worry, he’s nice. A bit unusual, but nice.” She said as she handed Lucy a paper. Lucy took it and looked at the number scribbled on it. “But don’t dress too formally though, he’ll probably find it weird.” Lucy nodded as she put the number, carefully, in her bag.

“Thank you so much!” She told her friend, grabbing her hand.

“You’re welcome!” She answered, before quickly adding, “Although I was mostly doing Natsu a favour.”

“It never feels weird, to be friends with…” Lucy stopped her sentence searching for the right word.

She didn’t had time to find them, as her friend immediately replied, “Honestly, I’ve never known anything else so… I mean, to me, it was either we were in the orphan house and we were children, or we were in London, and all these happened so fast...” There was a hint of melancholy in her voice. Lucy didn’t need to ask to know where that feeling came from, but Levy told her nonetheless, “Sometimes I wonder what normal life is like.”

“Me, too.” Chimed Lucy. She had spent her life locked inside her family’s home. She was almost sure this wasn’t ‘normal life’. Not having any friends other than people working for your dad wasn’t really ‘normal life’. Having private preceptors instead of going to school wasn’t ‘normal life’. Having to run away from home, as an adult, in order to have a life of your own was not ‘normal life’. Fearing that your own father might send people after you to force you home shouldn’t be ‘normal life’.

She heard Levy sigh strongly. She was leaning her back onto the bookshelf, both her hands were clutching her sides. Her eyes were closed and her head was down. She looked about as tired as Lucy felt. Lucy brought her hand to her arms, holding her own self tight. 

“We’ll call each other, right?” Levy asked, looking up to Lucy.

“Yeah… well, you’ll call me. I won’t be able to know what number to dial when you’re on the road.”

“I will.”

After this promise, the two girls went back to their usual ways. They talked animatedly about books, music, and other cultural items they both enjoyed. They shared stories around their work. They also discussed which fashion trends they felt like following and which ones were just trash. Their day ended on a positive note, and their unsure future almost forgotten. 

But no enjoyment would ever be capable of preventing Lucy from thinking of the worst-case scenario once she was safely tucked into her bed. All the horrifying things that could turn out with her father went through her head. Her only relief was the fact that, soon, she would meet and interview Natsu Dragneel.


	5. Chapter 5

Lucy was climbing the stairs toward Natsu Dragneel’s apartment. He lived on the seventh floor, and the more steps she took, the more she regretted to have worn her high heels. To be honest, the closer she got to his apartment, the more she regretted her entire choice of attire. Levy had told her that Natsu Dragneel didn’t like people who were too serious and she had to dress down. She was wearing a zaffre circle skirt that ended much above her knees with a white short-sleeved notched collar shirt. As much as she wanted Mr. Dragneel to see her as someone he could trust, she had a hard time believing he’d take her seriously with a skirt this short. She had told Levy about this worry of hers, and her friend had answered on a dismissive tone, “Natsu doesn’t take anyone seriously.” This hadn’t made Lucy feel better. Her mind was filled with the different remark that could be made about the skirt. Mini skirts were the trend, almost every girl wore them in London, but back at home, they had always been forbidden and shamed. She was raised in a conservative home, after all.

Her legs hurt with every step she took, as she looked up for the hundredth time to see if she was getting closer. She cursed the architect who made the steps so wide. And it was also just her luck that the lift was under maintenance today. It was hot inside the building, but not as much as it was outside. Lucy, who had grown up more at the north, was not used to this heat and it showed. She wiped some sweat from her brow and tried to look under her armpit, where she could feel dampness. She could only hope it didn’t spread too widely or what would she look like?

When she finally reached the right floor, she took a moment to catch her breath. She shouldn’t be this affected by just a few stairs, but she was truly out of shape and the heat was just agonizing. Lucy took out her powder compact from her bag and used its mirror to look at herself. Her hair was a bit messy and she tried her best to put the stray strands back in place, but without a comb, this was an impossible task. She looked inside her bag and found a blue foulard, that she tied around her head, tying it under her left ear in a big noose that she hoped would keep the attention away from her hair. She retouched her make up the best she could, then took a deep breath and walked to where Natsu Dragneel’s apartment should be.

With her still sweaty finger, she rang the bell. She heard the sound echo through the building, and the moment it stopped, the door opened. On the other side, stood a man who she recognised to be Natsu Dragneel, his messy hair as well as his signature unbuttoned black leather waistcoat were the giveaway. He didn’t wear anything underneath it, apart of course, from his white pants. Lucy was made quite uncomfortable by the sight of his bare chest. She gulped as unnoticeably as she could, and immediately looked away. 

“Hello.” He said with a nice voice.

“Hi.” Said Lucy, as she looked at him in the eyes, trying to look professional, “I’m Lucy Heartfillia, the Strings’n’Drums journalist, I’m here for the interview.”

“Oh yeah, right! Do come in!” He said with a smile and there was excitement in his voice.

Lucy entered the apartment and was met with a wave of heat, which would have surprised her if she hadn’t immediately spotted the large window that allowed an incredible amount of light in, the white walls reflecting it. As she glanced around, she noticed the tremendous mess that was this flat. While the furniture were correctly placed, the couch across from a television; a small wooden table in between them; several chairs were also in place to accommodate guests; underneath the expanse of this area was a large carpet; and against the wall, was a console shelf full of vinyl records, and sitting atop of it was a state-of-the-art record player. There were also uncountable amounts of small objects scattered around the room, and mostly at places where they didn’t belong—such as guitar strings on the television, a mug on the carpet, what seems like a recently-used toothbrush on the couch, an opened bottle of alcohol on a chair, a pile of clean clothes folded on the floor, and many more other things. 

Mr. Dragneel went to sit on the couch, across from the toothbrush, and smiled kindly at her. Lucy made her way to one of the chairs and sat. As she did, she noticed a bunch of papers folded into the seat’s crevice. She took them and discovered that they were music sheets. She spared a quiet glance in Natsu Dragneel’s direction and saw that his expression had not changed, as if he was perfectly unbothered by what she had just done. She put the sheets back where she had found them, and took out her notepad before putting her bag on the floor next to her chair. She turned her attention towards the musician she was supposed to interview. Now that she looked at him more carefully, she noticed that he seemed a bit tanned. She guessed this was due to the tour he just got back from; the last concert having been in Spain and Portugal. She also noticed the white scarf that was wrapped around his neck. The sight of the man’s chiselled chest had made her unable to pay attention to the article of clothing earlier. This scarf had black lines on it that reminded Lucy of scales, which she thought fits well with his nickname: Salamander. His eyes, his expression, his entire body language, were perfectly relaxed. Lucy supposed it came from the numerous interviews he had already given. This led her to think it would make him judge her more harshly. Levy had told her that he was very laid back and didn’t care about much, but Lucy convinced herself that someone with his influence in the musical world would see that what was part of it as someone religiously important. 

“So are you ready to dive in?” she asked, forcing a smile.

“Sure!” He answered with what seemed to be the excitement of a child. Lucy almost laughed at his behaviour.

“Alright,” she said, “you just came back from your European tour, right? How was it?”

“Oh it was cool, y'know the usual,” he said nonchalantly, making small gestures as he spoke. 

“Did you get to play the tourist in some of the towns you visited?” Out of habit, she started to outstretch her arm toward him, but remembering her sweaty armpit, she quickly retracted it.

“Not all of them, cause, y'know, the schedule. But there were a few I got to visit and hang around in. Like, it was super cool in Stockholm,” and he went on to explain everything he had found interesting about this town. As he spoke, he grew more excited and his movements grew wider. By the end of his speech, he was almost jumping on his seat. Lucy was very amused by his behaviour. “Have you ever been to a town like that?” He finished by asking.

“No,” she said, the ghost of a chuckle in her voice, she was about to tell him about one of her travels when she remembered that she was supposed to do an interview. “Did you find anything interesting or inspiring, musically speaking?”

This time he jumped on his seat, “Yes!” he said loudly pointing at her with his finger, “It was in Portugal, in Lisbon, I went to a bar one night to see a concert of local fado artists—have you ever listened to fado?” She shook her head no, “...well, it’s that sort of Portuguese blues, I mean I call it blues because it’s really melancholic and played with string instruments but it’s not melancholic melancholy, y’know? The melody somehow has a hint of hope in it,” there was a glimmer in his eyes as he spoke, “...and there’s that sound, it’s very unique. The sound made by Portuguese guitars. The one I went to see, they had a guitarra,” Lucy had no idea what that was and it must have showed because he immediately said, “it’s a guitar that looks kind of like a cross between a mandolin and a violao, which is another Portuguese guitar. The guitarra has that sound that really fits the melancholy of the music. And there was this singer, the way she sang, it was amazing! It really touches your soul, y'know.”

“Do you plan on including a bit of that in your next album?”

“Definitely. Though I haven’t figured out how yet, but I’ve bought myself a guitarra and a dozen of fado albums before leaving Lisbon. I’ve been listening to them on repeat. I’m going to fit that in somehow.” He said with delight.

Lucy was curious on how he was going to do that, and on how his next songs might sound. She made a note to herself to purchase some fado albums to help her write the article. In her head, she imagined it sounding similar to flamenco, but she could guess this was wrong. Flamenco was Spanish, and fado was Portuguese; the two countries did share a border, but that didn’t make them the same. Plus, with what Natsu had described, it didn’t sound like flamenco because fado sounded melancholic, not upbeat. 

This train of thought reminded her of information she had acquired about the musician, so she asked him, “Did you get to spend some time in Spanish cities?”

“Yeah, I got to visit Madrid a bit, but not Barcelona, and that’s a bit sad.”

“You have Spanish roots, don’t you? Did going there feel different from other countries you’ve visited?”

“Oh yeah, well, my dad’s Spanish, I… I don’t know, it was weird,” suddenly he wasn’t making any movement anymore, “...cause I know like three words of Spanish and here I was, visiting the homeland of my ancestors, but I was a foreigner. It was cool to discover all cultures, y'know, the music, the colours, the food. The food! Man, the food was great! But it just showed that I’m not Spanish, y'know?” He finished, scratching the back of his head.

Lucy didn’t know. Her parents must have moved only three kilometres away from where they were born, where their parents were born, where their grandparents were born. By moving to London, she must have accomplished the greatest migration anyone in her family had ever made. She didn’t feel much towards her ‘homeland’, probably because to her, it had always been a prison. But she had always thought that those who had another home, one older, one carried by the stories of their grandparents, must have had a connection to that place, something that drew them there.

She couldn’t help but ask, “So, you didn’t feel any connection with Spain?”

She saw him hesitate before answering, “It’s a great place and I do like it there but… all my friends are in Great Britain, and that’s where my heart is. This is where my home is.”

A smile made its way to Lucy’s face. This was a beautiful thought, and she hoped that one day, she would share it. But for it to become a reality, she needed to make her place here, and this started by being a good journalist. “Should we expect a song about this?”

His eyes widened and he pointed at her again, “That’s a great idea!” he exclaimed, “But I can’t use fado on that one, I’ll have to go towards Spanish music. I know some Spanish musicians, I’ll have to call them.” His hands were floating in the air again. “Maybe, I can put some Spanish words in the lyrics, what do you think?”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out. So your next album is going to be inspired by what you’ve discovered in your tour?”

“Well yeah, you sing what, y’know, what happens to you. I can’t discover those kinds of things and then not include them in my songs.”

“You’ve had tours all around the world before, why didn’t you do this sooner?”

“In the past tour, I never had the time to do anything other than my concerts, attend rehearsals, and appear on shows where I’m a guest. It was really exhausting. Honestly, at that time, I’d rather hit the bed than hit the town.” He let his body fall on the side of the couch to emphasize his words.

Lucy let a chuckle escape her lips. The musician smiled at her and got his body back into a sitting position. Lucy looked back at her notes to figure out what question she was supposed to ask, “What about the public, the crowd—is it really different from one country to the next?” 

“Not really, y'know, music it’s… it can bring people together like nothing else. No matter where you’re from, you feel it the same, y'know what I mean?” She could tell from the look on his face that he truly was worried about his wording, but Lucy understood him completely and she nodded. Lucy might not be a musician, but she had felt music every time she listens to it. Music didn’t need to have the same cultural base, or the same language...sometimes, it didn’t even need lyrics. Music could universally be comprehended.

“Yeah, music just get to people, it doesn’t matter where you are. Everyone understands music.” He continued, “So yeah, crowd’s the same. I mean there’s America, y’know, I was in the US before and like, over there my crowd is mostly made of girls, so I guess it’s not exactly the same, I guess.”

“How do you feel about this difference?”

“Oh, I don’t think much about it, but y’know, sometimes…it kind of gives me the impression that they’re more here for my appearance than my music.” His eyes widened, “Oh, so that’s how it feels.”

Lucy laughed and out of reflex brought her hands in front of her mouth. Meanwhile, Natsu smiled at her. When she went back to her original stance, she felt a coolness at the place where her arms connected with her sides. This reminded her that her armpits were stained with sweat, something that Natsu Dragneel must have seen while she was laughing. Yet, he was looking at her with a childlike smile, as if he hadn’t noticed anything.

Lucy didn’t know what to make of that. Any other day, she would have immediately thought that he was pretending to have seen nothing to be polite, but with the behaviour he had shown up until now, she thought that it was possible, that he might simply not care. However, she couldn’t be sure, and even if she had been, it wouldn’t have stop shame from making its way to her mind. She could hear her preceptor’s stern voice in her head going, ‘A true lady is never seen covered with filth of any kind.’ As much as she could shut the voice down, she couldn’t stop emotions from invading her. All she could hope to do was not to let it show. So, she gave her best smile and thought of a new question.

“Are you concerned with the place of women in the industry?” Her voice had been strong and didn’t show any hint of how she felt inside. She was proud of herself, but that didn’t last long. The moment she looked at Natsu Dragneel, she saw him looking at her oddly. 

“Yeah, kind of,” he said, still looking weirdly at her. Lucy started thinking that maybe her question was the problem. “I have lots of friends who aren’t treated like me, y'know. It’s like Erza, I mean—Erza!” There was an hint of anger in his voice, “She’s so much more talented than me! I would kill to be at her level but they don’t let her do her thing!” The hint of anger was gone, and only real frustration remained.

“You mean Erza Scarlet?” asked Lucy, perplexed at the idea that he could be speaking about an artist as popular as her in such ways.

“Yeah!” he said, still visibly pissed.

Lucy took a moment to think about how to phrase her question. She didn’t want to sound like she was disagreeing with him. She was genuinely curious, but seeing how enraged he was, he might take her words the wrong way. Carefully, she tried, “Could you explain to me, how…in what ways Erza Scarlet is mistreated by the industry?” 

“They make her like that,” he paused a moment, then spurred out words like they were poison, “...nice little doll, that only has a pretty voice!”

Lucy would never have described Erza Scarlet’s voice as pretty; not that it sounded bad, but that word didn’t reflect the power there was in that woman’s voice. She didn’t know what to think of the words ‘nice little doll’;Erza Scarlet had always seemed like a full grown woman to Lucy. But the person in front of her knew Erza Scarlet personally, so if to him, what she perceives as a normal woman with a powerful voice was a ‘nice little doll that only has a pretty voice’, what kind of person could Erza Scarlet really be?

“She’s not that?” the words escaped Lucy’s mouth without her accord.

“She’s so much more than that,” answered Natsu Dragneel, looking out the window. It took Lucy a moment to recognise the emotion in his voice, it was admiration. Not the kind of admiration one feels for someone they’re smitten with, but the kind you have for a mentor, the kind a child has for their hero. “Erza is the most talented musician I’ve ever met. Hands down.” He paused, “What you hear is nothing compared to what she can do—what she can really do.” He let out a frustrated sigh, “All that because stupid producers won’t let her do her thing.” The drama of what he was saying was cut off by his face, which wore a big childish pout. 

“You admire her a lot, don’t you?” asked Lucy, genuinely curious. Now that she thought about it, Levy had mentioned that, among the children she had grown up with, there was Natsu Dragneel and Erza Scarlet. 

“Of course!” he exclaimed throwing his arms in the air, “She’s the best!”

“Did you always think of her that way? I mean, since you were children?”

Natsu stopped and stared at her, his face was full of confusion, than realisation dawned on him. “Levy,” he said under his breath, he then regained his composure and said, “Not straight away, I thought she was bossy at first,” he paused, “...and she kind of was, like every time I tried to sneak into the kitchen at night, she was there to drag me back to my room.” He whined. He sighed angrily before continuing, “But then I heard her play and I realised how talented she was, and y'know after that, I couldn’t not admire her. And y'know, I was trying to become as good as her, but she was improving at the same time, so I was always behind. I’m still behind!”

“You’re still very talented,” Lucy automatically reassured him.

He shrugged it of and said, “The only person I’ve ever met who was close to her level was Gildarts.”

“You mean Gildarts Clive, the bluesman?” Once again, she had Levy to thank for the intel.

“Yeah!” said Natsu, with clear excitement in his voice. “That guy is awesome!”

“You’ve also met him back in the orphanage. I heard he sometimes gave music lessons to the children. Is that how you learnt music?”

“No, that’s how I got better.” He tilted his head to the side, “That and playing with the others.” he admitted.

This gave Lucy the opportunity to ask something that had been puzzling her for a long time. She knew from Levy that Natsu Dragneel, Erza Scarlet, John Fool, Cana Alberona, The Strauss, and many others had all grown up in the same place, yet, they had all made their careers separately. This didn’t make sense to Lucy. She had asked Levy about it but the other girl had not been able to give her an answer. Lucy didn’t live inside their heads, she didn’t know what they thought. So she asked Natsu about it.

“We didn’t want to work together.” he said simply.

“But why?” pushed Lucy, the only reason that, to her, made sense for not wanting to work with someone you’ve known so long, would be that you don’t get along. But she knew they had chosen to live together in a tiny flat when they got to London, so they must have been more than comfortable with each other.

Natsu shook his head sideways, looking for his words, “You can’t know who’s the best, if you’re all in the same band, y'know?” Lucy didn’t understand what he meant, and it must have shown because he then said, “We had… some kind of rivalry going on, we wanted to see who was the best, y'know.”

Now Lucy got it. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was what having siblings was like. Of course she knew of many bands made of siblings or other family members, but in every novel she reads, siblings seem to have some kind of rivalry, or a need to show which of them was the best. Being an only child, the mechanics of siblinghood fascinated her. She remembered asking for siblings when she was young, and her mother would only always laugh nicely at her request. She didn’t remember her father’s reaction, either he had never been there (which could sum up most of her childhood) or she had repressed the memory on purpose.

She kept asking Natsu question about his work, mostly what he was planning to do from now on. He kept answering with much enthusiasm, causing the fall of many objects scattered on the couch or around it. Until finally, Lucy ran out of questions. She told him she was done with the interview and started gathering her things.

“Y'know, this interview was more fun than most of the ones I’ve had.” he told her.

This brought warmth to Lucy’s heart. She, who was always worried about her own capabilities. The smile on his face showed that he was sincere.

“You’re one of the nicest persons I’ve had to interview, too.” She said to repay the compliment.

“Really? Who did you get before?” he asked, genuinely curious. 

Lucy stopped, his question insinuated that the interviewees she had were people excessively mean, and that wasn’t true. She had had people who clearly didn’t want to be here, but she never had anyone actually take it out on her. Still, thinking about this, she decided to say with a defeated sigh, “Rust made me uncomfortable.” Which was true. This band had remained a bad memory, probably the most uneasy interview of her admittedly short career. Nevertheless, she regretted saying those words the instant they came out of her mouth. For one, it was a very unprofessional thing to say, and secondly, with her background, she didn’t feel like she was allowed to judge them.

But before she could apologize for that sentence Natsu left out, “Oh yeah, Gajeel’s such an ass!”

“I don’t know if I would say that.” Lucy didn’t really know much about Mr. Redfox and she felt very uncomfortable insulting him behind his back.

“Every time I see him, he’s being an ass to someone! Plus he punched Droy in the face for no reason!” Natsu whined.

Lucy knew who Droy was; he was the friend of Levy that had indeed been punched in the face by Gajeel Redfox. Natsu knew that and had apparently met with Gajeel a significant amount of time. But she hadn’t. “I’ve only met him once and I doubt it’s enough to make an opinion.”

“I’ve met him lots of times and I think he’s an ass.” he said confidently.

Lucy just smiled and said, “If you say so.”

Natsu smiled back. Lucy was about to leave when she felt something warm and hairy rubbing against her leg. Shocked, she immediately jumped on the chair, turning her eyes toward what had touched her. She was relieved to see a cat. She let out a sigh of relief, but at the same time, Natsu burst in laughter. His laugh quickly became uncontrollable. He ended up on the couch clutching his stomach. Lucy was mortified, she felt ridiculed and wanted nothing more than run out of here, but she found herself paralysed. The cat looked confused by the scene. Somewhere in between his laughing fits, Natsu managed to let out, “You’re afraid of the cat.” 

This sentence should have sounded mean, but there was no malice in his voice, just friendly teasing. As if they had known each other much longer than they actually did. Able to move again, Lucy climbed down the chair. She glanced at Natsu who was slowly regaining control of himself, then turned to the cat who was staring at her. She picked him up. He had soft fur, and Lucy enjoyed giving him nice stroke on the back. The cat started purring.

“Your human is an idiot, you know.” She told him.

Natsu came back to his senses, still lying on the sofa when he told her, “You’re weird, but in a good way.”

Lucy had no idea what that meant, or in what way he could have possibly found her weird. She spent a good amount of time trying to figure that out, on her way home. She didn’t. But when the time came to start writing her article, and she asked herself how she would describe Natsu Dragneel in a few words, the first thing that came to her mind was: weird, but in a good way.


	6. Chapter 6

Lucy was on her way to work. Her heels were clicking against the floor like many others, but hers was faster as she didn’t want to miss the train. The underground station that she had come to know rather well, was dusty and unclean. But no one seemed to mind; Lucy didn’t, since it was the most affordable way to go to work besides walking for an ungodly amount of time. Something she could never have done in those shoes. 

She got on the platform, where many people were already waiting, and she tried to make her way closer to the rail. She was surrounded by people and could barely take a few steps without coming in contact with someone. And yet, this was nothing compared to what it would be on-board the train. Lucy wished she could have said she wasn’t looking forward getting squished on the train, but being squeezed by people was, to her, a much better option than the feeling of being watched she always got on the platform.

The first time it happened, she was startled by the sensation and immediately wondered if someone sent by her father was following her. But, looking discretely over her shoulder, she noticed a man who was staring, with a sly smile on his face, at her derriere. Her first reaction was shame. She had been taught that only a woman of bad faith would bring that kind of thought in a man. And to boot, she had been wearing a short skirt. After that day, she started wearing pants, and pants only, telling herself that she should be more careful with what she wore. And yet, the stares kept coming her way. She soon realised that no matter what she wore, men would look, so she, slowly, freed herself from the blame. The shame was gone but an unsettling feeling remained, this one came from the fact that she could get an idea of what they were thinking, what they were imagining. She didn’t like it, she didn’t like being seen that way. Now, she stood her ground on the platform, trying her best to erase the stares from her mind. 

When the train finally got there, Lucy rushed inside, alongside everyone on the platform. She ended up with her body pressed against the doors of the train on the left. She was now met with body heat, sweat, and a very strong perfume worn by the old woman to her left. The strong smell was making her head spin, which didn’t help her current predicament. Lucy simply stared into the dark tunnel taking her from this station to the next, counting the stops until she could finally get out. 

Once she reunited with fresh air, she only had two blocks to walk through before she met the building in which the Strings’n’Drums office could be found. As she walked towards it, she noticed a woman at the café next to the building. She was tall, and the fact that she was sitting down did little to hide it. She was wearing a sleek black suit that accentuated her long features, and her long hair was slick-combed to her back, which emphasized the curves of her waist and hips. What made Lucy notice her was the fact that she looked a lot like someone she knew, someone who worked for her father, to be more precise. She didn’t stop to take a better look at her though; she didn’t want to be late for work. But the woman didn’t leave her mind.

She took the lift and once at the right floor, she walked as fast as she could to her desk. Was that her or not? Lucy couldn’t be sure, and she wouldn’t dare to go back down and verify that she might be right. If she was here, was it for her father or for her own account? This woman, if she was who she believed her to be, had worked for her father for a long time. Lucy knew for a fact that she had originally worked for her mother. She never knew quite what that woman did. All she knew about her was that she loved her husband, didn’t like children answering to her, and that Lucy loved her name. Aquarius, it was such an unusual name, but Lucy loved it. That’s why she had been drawn to her in her childhood, and for a time, she had hoped for her to be a surrogate mother for herself, but Aquarius had made it very clear that she had no interest in doing so. Almost every conversation they had ended with an argument, and the few times she had agreed to help Lucy, she had found a way to make her solve her problem while putting her in a difficult position. The only thing she did that could be close of a motherly behaviour was to complain about Lucy’s matrimonial status, but she seemed to be doing it more out of despise than concern. But none of that told Lucy why she would be here or what she would have wanted. 

Would she grab Lucy and drag her back home? She could. She had the strength to do so. Lucy was already picturing it in her head, Aquarius grabbing her hair and pulling with enough strength to force her entire body to follow, Lucy kicking and screaming without effect. She could already feel the ground clawing at her back. Lucy stopped herself, she mustn’t think that way, perhaps she’s wrong. She didn’t see that woman very well, so it could be someone else.

It could be someone else, it was someone else, it was someone else, but what if it wasn’t, no it had to be. Lucy leaned into her chair and let her head fall back; she took a deep breath, then another, and another. She wanted to talk to someone; she needed to talk about this. But she didn’t know her co-workers, she knew their faces, sometimes their names, but that was just it, she just knew them. She had never shared a significant personal conversation with any of them. She was scared that she might say the wrong word or sound like an amateur in front of people who worked here much longer than she had. The fact that she was the only female journalist in the office didn’t help either. And now that Levy had left with Rust, there was no one she really knew in this city. She felt alone and insecure. A sensation of coldness spread in her chest and her eyes began to sting as tears were forming in them. Lucy leaned on her desk and put her joined hands against her mouth, she closed her eyes and took in a sharp inhale, determined not to cry, not here.

Slowly but surely, she calmed herself. She didn’t move, though, afraid that the smallest shiver might get her started again. She kept breathing at her own pace, until she heard a voice call out, “Tough day already?”

Lucy looked up and was met with the face of one of her co-workers. The man couldn’t have been much older than her. His frame was lean, his skin clear, his jaw strong, his ginger hair well cut. He wore glasses that suited him well and attracted the eyes of others toward his as they had a nice shape and were bright hazel. He was always well-dressed, wearing nice suits that made his broad shoulders stand out. There was no denying that he was handsome. Lucy knew that he was a photographer, she had seen several of his shoots in the magazine, and she had to admit, he was talented. She had also noticed that he always seemed to be smiling, and that the only time she had seen him look un-cheerful was about a week ago, when Brian Jones died. She hadn’t seen many happy people that day. But that was all in the past and the man in front of her was harbouring his brightest smile. 

“I’m sorry?” Lucy asked, her voice holding a faint clue of her past state.

“You look upset.” He said nicely.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.” She told him, not wanting to tell her life story to a man she didn’t know.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she said a bit coldly.

“Hey don’t be like that, I’m just trying to be nice.”

Lucy didn’t know what to answer, she felt a little bad for him, but it didn’t change the fact that she didn’t know who he was and felt uncomfortable telling him about her life’s problems.

He sat on her desk and crossed his legs “Listen, if you really feel bad, you and I could go grab some drinks after work. I’m sure I could cheer you up.” He said with a wink.

Lucy was taken aback, she knew very well what he was offering her, and she had no idea what to answer. She had never been in this situation before; she hadn’t really thought she’d one day be in this situation. Not that she didn’t think she couldn’t attract men, if her subway experience taught her anything it’s that she easily could, but she never thought one might act on it that way. And therefore, she was in no way prepared for this. 

Her face must have shown her internal shock and confusion for the man backed away. He told her, “You tell me later, okay?” He then got off her desk and started walking, but he turned back towards Lucy before leaving her line of sight and told her with a cheeky smile, “By the way, my name is Loke. Good morning.”

He kept looking at her, and it took her a moment before responding in a rather scrambled manner, “L-Lucy, I’m Lucy.”

His smile grew wider and he went away. Once she could no longer see him, she came to the realisation that he expected her to give him an answer, later. Lucy had no idea what she was going to do, not only because she didn’t know how to deal with this kind of situation, but also mostly because she didn’t know what she wanted to answer. A certain curiosity within her was pressuring her to say yes, but her mind also told her otherwise. The adventurous part of her mind wanted to go with that man, with Loke, to try this new experience, but the romantic part of her mind wanted her to find the right person. But soon, her insecurities rallied themselves with the romantic part of her and her adventurous side was subdued.

Now all Lucy had to dread was the moment she would see Loke again. How was she supposed to face that man? Could she just tell him no? How would he react? Maybe he’ll try to convince her to change her mind, which would make her very uncomfortable. Maybe he’ll accept her decision and let her be. Or he could vow that one day or another, he’d get her, and that terrified her. If that were to happen, would she ever be able to come back to work? But perhaps he’d have completely forgotten about her, which would be wonderful. That didn’t seem very likely though. Maybe he’d forget her after some time, and she would simply have to avoid him until then. But the office wasn’t big, so how was she supposed to avoid him in those conditions?

But then again, Lucy was good at avoiding people. She had managed to avoid her father for years, even while living under the same roof. She could avoid Loke, especially since in less than a month, she would be out of town covering a rock festival. A festival, where many of her favourite artists—some of whom she had already met—would be playing and where, more importantly, she would see Levy again. This thought brought joy within her and she was able to forget her business with Loke and get to her work. 

She went on to research and write, mostly about Natsu Dragneel, about whom she would be releasing an article in this month’s issue. She knew she would spend a fair amount of her article on the musical revelation his trip through Europe had been, as she also had gotten him to talk about his Spanish roots, but she really wanted to talk about his feminist side. The way he talked about Erza Scarlet had not only shown his admiration for her but also his concern in the place of women in this industry. This wasn’t something you’d see often among male musicians and Lucy was excited to talk about it. But she knew the chief editor wouldn’t like it, and she would have to tone it down. Maybe if she wrote it in a humoristic way? The remark he had made about the audience being more interested in his physique than his music had made her laugh. Yes, maybe she could use that.

Lucy spent her day looking for the right phrasings to get her points across, and in the end, the feminist part of her article stayed short. Natsu had not spoken much about it anyway, but he still had given her more material than Juvia Lockser did. And it really marvelled her that a man could actually care about the place of women. Her boss certainly did not. She doubted her father ever did.

Absorbed by her work, she had completely forgotten about the woman she thought looked like Aquarius. That is until she was about to step out the building. She found herself stopping in front of the door in dread. What if she was outside? Her mind said on repeat. What if at the moment she got out, Aquarius grabbed her and threw her in a car and drove back to her father? Lucy was frightened and started wondering if she could maybe spent the night in the office. All she would have to do is to hide in the bathroom until the janitor was gone, then she could sleep under her desk. It would probably be incredibly uncomfortable but it would be safe. It would be safe as long as she didn't get caught. 

As she took a step back to get to the elevator, she overheard a conversation, what it was about she didn’t understand, but she did recognise one of the voices involved in this conversation; it was Loke. And by how well she was starting to hear him, she could guess he was getting close. Without thinking, she quickly got out of the door. Once she was outside, she realised what she had done. She turned her eyes toward the place she had seen the Aquarius look-alike this morning, and she wasn’t there. Lucy looked everywhere—there was no sign of her. 

Lucy felt suddenly much lighter. That woman had probably not been Aquarius and she had overreacted over nothing. She walked peacefully towards the subway. And she kept a sense of calm all the way home.

When she took off her shoes in her apartment, she let out a relieved sigh that came just as much from the pain leaving her feet as the anxiety left her body. She treated herself to a nice, warm bath and then put on one of her favourite records. She lied down on her bed and listened; she felt at peace, she felt safe.

Suddenly, she was startled by the ringing of her telephone. She sat up on her bed stared at it. Her heart started to race, and she was on the verge of hyperventilating. Is it my father? She wondered. If it was, what should she do? Should she answer? Should she let it ring? What if he calls back? What if he’s just checking if she’s home so he can send someone in to grab her? What if he’s calling to say he found her and there’s a car outside for her? The phone kept ringing and Lucy didn’t know what to do. It was coming towards the last ring when a new thought entered her mind, what if it’s not him?

She hesitantly picked up and said nothing, not that she would have needed to, as the second the phone was against her ear, she heard a voice shout exasperatedly, “What took you so long?”

A relieved sigh, left Lucy’s body and she happily spoke, “Levy. ”

“Are you okay?” asked her friend, clearly worried.

“Sorry, I thought it was my father. ” Lucy explained. 

“Oh…oh.”

“Yeah.”

“We should come up with something so you know it’s me and not him, or someone else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, I could let the phone ring twice then hang up and call again?”

“That sounds like a good idea.” This had somehow calmed her down, and she felt like starting a normal conversation, “So how are things with Rust?” She heard Levy sigh heavily across the phone. “That bad?”

“Well, let’s see. When I got here, Gajeel had forgotten there was supposed to be a photographer and he wanted me to leave. Then Juvia told him I had to be here. He then told me to stay out of his face. To joke around, I told him being in his face was my job.” She sighed, “He didn’t really like that, so he told me… he told me that bitches like me should stay home and that if I pissed him off, he would break this pretty little face of mine.” Lucy could tell her friend was on the verge of tears.

“Levy, I’m so sorry.” She said.

“It’s not your fault. You did warn me that it wouldn’t be easy with them.” She could now hear tears in her friend’s voice. “They do their best to avoid me now. So, on the bright side, I don’t have to see them, on the other hand, I can’t do my job.” She burst into tears at the end of her sentence.

“Oh Levy I—“

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine,” Levy said, in between soft hiccups, she took a few deep breaths that calmed her down, “I just want to do my job. That's all.”

“Do it.” The words left Lucy’s lips before she could think better of it.

“I—what?” Levy asked, slightly taken aback with Lucy's suggestion.

“It’s just, I don’t know why I said that, but I believe, I think you should try to do your job despite the circumstances. Ugh, I don’t know what I’m saying. Forget it.”

“No that…that could actually be a good idea.”

“Are you sure?” asked Lucy, more worried than curious.

“No. But I have to try something, whether I’ll win their respect or they’ll hate me forever. I’ll just have to call it quits before Gajeel can hurt me.” She sighed, “At least I can say that I tried.”

Lucy was worried about her friend, but there was nothing she could do, “Just be careful, too.” She told her.

“I’ll be. You know I tried to sympathize with Juvia in the first few days, but she didn’t… it’s like she didn’t care about anything. Is it me or does that girl have no emotion whatsoever?”

“I know, that’s what I thought when I first met her. Scary, isn’t it?”

Lucy allowed herself to lay back on her bed. The two girls went on to talk about the Rust bassist and her lack of emotion. They talked about how unsettling it was to see someone like that; never knowing what she’s feeling, what she’s thinking, or what she might do. 

“At least with Gajeel, I know what I’m getting into.” said Levy, with a ghost of a laugh in her voice.

The conversation became pleasant until Levy asked her how things were on her end. Lucy then told her about the Aquarius look-alike and her fears.

“I’m sure it was just your imagination.” 

Lucy nodded, even though her friend couldn’t see it. Then, she remembered another part of her day, so she asked, “Have you ever had sex?”

“What? I mean… yeah, why?”

“How was it?”

Levy took a moment to answer, “It depends. Why are you asking?”

“There was a guy at work offering.”

“A guy?” asked Levy and Lucy was unable to decipher her tone.

“Yeah, some ginger photographer I work with.”

“Loke, I swear, he will never change!” she said, with a hint of amusement in her voice.

“You know him?” asked Lucy incredulously.

“Guess in which orphanage he grew up.”

“No way,” Lucy said silently praying that her friend was playing a trick on her.

“Yeah, and he was always chasing girls down, you can trust me on that one.”

“Did you—?”

“No, I knew him too well for that.” She then added, “Did you say yes?”

“No, but I didn’t really say no either… I just avoided him all day.” 

Levy laughed, and the fact that she had amused her friend made Lucy happy, “But would you want that?” she asked.

“What?”

“Sex, just for sex—no strings attached. That’s all you’ll be getting from Loke.”

“I don’t know, what about you?”

“Not all the time. Sometimes I feel like it, but most of the time, I prefer to have some commitment involved.”

“I really want to know what it’s like, but I’m afraid if I rush into it I’ll regret it.” Lucy admitted.

“Then don’t rush into it. I know people who did and loved it and people who did and regretted it.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m going to wait forever.”

“You should wait until you’re sure of yourself.”

Lucy decided to change the subject. She told Levy about her meeting with Natsu Dragneel, as she hadn’t had a chance to talk to her about it before. She tried to paint with her words the odd character she had come to meet. Levy gave her inputs, telling about the aspect of his character that had been this way in how she knew him, and the one that had come to change with time. 

“He’s really friendly, though.” Said Lucy at some point.

“Yeah he has a gift to make people feel at ease with him.” Confirmed Levy. “You kind of do, too.”

“Really?” asked Lucy, having a hard time believing that.

“Yeah, Natsu and Gra—I mean John, they don’t actually open up easily but you, you got through them. You also got through me, but that’s a bit easier.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

“You know what that also means?” Levy continued, while Lucy hummed in question, “That means you have the best quality to be a journalist or a writer.”

Lucy smiled and said, “Well you are very insightful. You know how to see who people are, which moments matter and which don’t, the best quality for a photographer.”

She heard her friend laugh on the other side of the phone, “Well I have to work that quality early in the morning, so I’m going to hang up now.”

“Alright, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, and you be careful.”

“You too.”

That night, Lucy slept peacefully.


	7. Chapter 7

Lucy liked writing about Nastu Dragneel, he was a strange character, childish and yet, with an fascinating in sighed on life. But none of this was what the readers of Strings’n’Drums would be interested in. Unless she could put it in relation with his work, which wasn’t an easy task. Lucy had decided that she needed more material to achieve her goal. In that spirit she had gotten the magazine to pay for a ticket to his concert in London. 

The concert was in a massive room that could hold more five hundred persons. Lucy’s ticket was in the pit, of course. She had checked a London map three times before leaving, the concert was particularly far away from her flat and she had never been to that part of town. This was one of the things the loved about London, she always had new things to discover, even people who had lived here their entire life were finding new places every day. Lucy had quickly come to know every inch of the small villages around the estate. But she knew London would always have a part of mystery. 

The weather was hot even at that time of night, Lucy was wishing she had worn a skirt, but as she knew how lively Nastu Dragneel’s concert could get, she had opted for pants. At least her arms could meet the refreshing wind thanks to her short sleeve shirt. The man next to her was smoking a cigarette, the woman behind her, something else. 

Finally the door opened and Lucy made her way to the pit. In front of her there was a small fence, on the other side photographer were trying to figure out the best position to be when the concert start. Among them she noticed Loke, she took a step back hoping he wouldn’t see her. He didn’t. Actually, he seemed a bit too preoccupied with the pretty girl he was with to even look her way. Nevertheless, she backed to the third row, just to be safe.

The first part band came in, and Lucy quite enjoyed their music, but she didn’t catch their name. The moment they left and Nastu entered the stage, the all crowd went wild, they was screaming everywhere, and Lucy knew that if they started playing now, no one would hear them. Nastu Dragneel was smiling happily at the crowd. He came to the mike and started clapping his hand over his head. Quickly people stopped shouting and started clapping along. Lucy was among them, and the sound of their collective clapping gave the rhythm of the song that she recognised immediately. In less than a few second the melody grabbed her heart, and her body told her it wanted to dance. Lucy tapped her feet and moved her shoulder to the beat. Everyone around her was already dancing, but Lucy couldn’t dare to do the same.

The next song was just as upbeat. Lucy let her upper body leap while trying to be discrete. Meanwhile, Nastu Dragneel was jumping up and down the stage guitar in hand. The songs succeeded themselves and Lucy let herself be carry by the band. Lucy felt liberated, none of her problem could reach her, even her father couldn’t reach her now. 

A ballad came next and Lucy found herself swaying with the rest of the audience, as Nastu pour his heart into the mike. Each notes entered her soul overclouding all her trouble, as Nastu’s emotions came in like a strike. Taken by this beautiful melancholy, her eyes wander to him. His eyes were close, remembering something perhaps; it would explain why he looked so grim. It was as if he had left this world, and he was somewhere else, on his own, for now.

Song after song, Lucy let herself loos. And by the end of the concert she had forgotten what she was here for. It’s only while passing in front of the backstage entrance on her way out that she remembered. She was definitely going to write a great article about Nastu Dragneel’s stage performance. Should she describe it as mystifying or unbinding? The wording was going to be hard to figure out.

She saw a large group waiting outside of the backstage door; they were getting on their tiptoes trying to see if someone was going to come out. Lucy wondered if she should try to get in. Would Nastu Dragneel remember her? Probably not, why would he remember a journalist he had only met once? 

Taking a closer look she noticed that Loke was among the people waiting outside. The girl he had come with was right next to him jumping on her feet with excitement. Not ready to face the man Lucy decided to leave, she turned around but was force to turn back, slightly, by the sound of the door opening. 

She saw Nastu Dragneel perked his head out of the door, he gave a smile to the crowd out side and then his eyes fell on her. His eyes widen slightly. He couldn’t actually remember her, could he?

“Luigi!” he shouted at her “You didn’t told me you’d be coming”

Lucy was embarrassed to be called the wrong name, but then again she couldn’t really expect him to remember it. Hesitantly she said “I- I didn’t know I’d be coming”

He nodded then made her sign to come in and disappear behind the door. Lucy stood unmoving, she was unsure that she should walk through that door, she wasn’t exactly sure that this sign was directed to her. What if she had misinterpreted it? Why on earth would Nastu Dragneel want some journalist he had only met once to come in the backstage with him? Unless he was hoping he could get a one-night stand out of her. This wasn’t good, Lucy wasn’t ready for that and she didn’t even know him. If this was what he was after, it was better for her to just go away. 

“You’re coming?”

Lucy looked up at the sound of his voice, he had passed his head outside of the door again, and was looking straight at her with such innocent eyes that Lucy ended up joining him behind the door. 

The backstage was crowed with technician trying there best to get the equipment back in their cases. Nastu led her to a close room, which had to be his dressing room. It was as messy as his flat, hard to believe he had managed to do that much in the short time he must have spent in this room. 

As Lucy made her way into the room she was startled by something moving against her leg, she gasp and looked down to see the same cat she had met at Nastu’s flat.

Nastu smiled, “He really does like you” he said.

Lucy gave a smile as an answer. She bent down to pet the cat, which purred at her touch.

“Did you like the show?”

She looked up to Nastu, he seemed to genuinely want to know how she felt, as if anyone could dislike that.

“It was great” she answered honestly, she saw his smile grow even bigger than before, “it looked like you were elsewhere, not in a bad way, it just seemed like you were living the songs.”

“I guess I was” he said as he scratched the back of his “you know these songs, they’re about stuff I’ve lived, people I’ve known, like, when I play them it all comes back, you know?”

This was simply what art did, it transported you. Lucy had always figured out the art-pieces had the power to do so, but she had always wondered how they affected their creator. Hearing Nastu speak, it seemed like they were just as powerless in front of it and the mere mortal. 

“Can I use that in my article?”

Nastu looked at her surprised then shrugged and said “Sure” he looked at the wall a few seconds before asking “Did you come just for your article?”

“No” she answered before thinking. It felt weird, because while she had always been a fan of his music and had always wanted to go to one of his concert, the reason she had decided to come tonight was to help her write her article. Yet when she had denied it, when the answer came out of her mouth, it sounded so natural, so casual, as if it had been entirely true. She had never been a good liar but he seemed to believe her. 

“Wanna sit?” he said gesturing to the chairs in the room.

Lucy made her way to sit on one of them and Nastu sat across of her. 

“Why you became a journalist?”

“Sorry?”

“Like why did you choose that?”

Lucy didn’t know what to answer, she knew her reason to become a rock’n’roll journalist weren’t the most romantic one, and she felt a bit embarrassed about it. But she was also curious about what made him so interested so she asked him “What do you think?”

“Honestly, I don’t get it” Lucy raised her eyebrow “I mean I don’t understand why you’d want to wright about other people doing stuff when you could be doing stuff.”

“I’m not sure if I’m the best person to ask, but I think that when you love something you want to share it with other people and that’s what a music journalist does, we found music we like and share with others.”

Nastu nodded, understanding showing in his eyes, followed by confusion “ Why aren’t you the best person to ask?”

Lucy suddenly felt very small, “Well, you see, I like being a journalist but my dream is to be writer.”

“Oh!” Nastu seemed strangely interested “What do you wright about?”

“I don’t know yet” said Lucy feeling even more uncomfortable.

“That part sucks doesn’t it!?” Nastu exclaimed, making large gesture. “It took me years to figure out what I wanted to sing about, and it’s awful because you want to sing, or wright, or whatever, but as long as you don’t know what you want to do it about your stuck! You can’t do anything!”

“Tell me about it” said Lucy while chuckling. “At least with journalism I get to practice my writing”

“I get that, I used to play with any band I could find.”

“Really I didn’t know about that.”

He tilted his head, “I guess I don’t talk about this often”

“Are they any band you though of staying with?”

“Not really” he said narrowing his eyes, “I mean they are some I liked working with but” he paused and tilted his head around “it was their thing not mine, you know”

“I see” Lucy didn’t had any idea what to add. Silence fell, Lucy felt the need to add something, to keep the conversation going, she was alone in a room with Nastu Dragneel for god’s sakes! “What were the bands?”

Nastu stared at her for a few seconds before answering “They were a lot I went through, huh- the only one I stayed in long was the alcoholics, I did a few gigs with them when Macao broke his arm”

“Yes the lead singer is one of your childhood friends”

He looked at her with a frown then clapped his hands together, “Oh yeah right you’re friends with Levy. You know, they’re all my friends.”

“Who?”

“The alcoholics”

Lucy couldn’t help but smile, there was something that warmed her up in his need to specify that he was friend with the all band to someone who would assume otherwise, and she had no idea why.

“How’s Levy?” he asked her.

Lucy was in a hard place, she hadn’t spoke to Levy since she had told her about Rust reaction to her presence. She wasn’t sure if her friend was all right, and neither was she that she could tell Nastu about it. But she wanted to, at least just to talk about it with someone. But if Levy didn’t want him to know, she would be hurting her. She had been friend with Nastu longer then her, anything she told her she should be fine with him knowing. Right? 

Her mulling over took too long, there was now worry in Nastu’s eyes and none of what she said could convinced him there was nothing.

Lucy sighed and admitted, “I don’t know, she hasn’t talk to me in while. But the last time she did things weren’t going great with Rust.”

Nastu’s clenched his fist “If they hurt her I’m sending them to the hospital”

Lucy smiled “She’s lucky to have you as friend”

Nastu looked at her with a blank face then smiled and said “Don’t worry, a few more meetings and we’ll be friends too”

She chuckled, “I’d like that” she admitted. 

They kept talking for a while, Nastu asked her about her friends and was surprised to find out that they basically resumed to Levy. Lucy changed the subject, and somehow they ended up talking about food. Something Nastu could apparently talk about for a remarkably long time. He gave her a few addresses. She would have to check out her wallet before checking any of them out. And then someone came to tell them they would have to leave. That’s when they parted ways, after she promised him they would see each other’s again.

Lucy got home happy, she had spent a great evening. But it had been a long evening and all she wanted was to sleep. She threw herself on her bed as soon as she got home. She closed her eyes, and heard the phone ring. Her first though was that she would let it ring and go to sleep. Oddly the phone only rang twice before stopping, then started ringing again. Lucy though of how weird this was, and then remember this was the system she and Levy had put in place.

She jumped off her bed and grabbed the phone, “Levy, how are you?” she asked the second she picked up.

“I’m” she held that m a few seconds then finally let out, “better”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I even got something close of an apology from Gajeel”

Lucy paused a second to process this, Gajeel Redfox didn’t seem like the kind of man to apologise for anything. But then again Levy had said something close of an apology. 

“I mean he said “you can stay just don’t get that camera to close of my face”, so I guess that means his sorry, right?”

“Well I guess that’s the closest you’re going to get.”

“I guess so too. But you know his behaviour really improved, he actually greets me in the morning now”

“That’s amazing” Lucy said as she moved to sit on her bed, her head against the window, “you know I’m really relive to hear that, you hadn’t given me news in a while”

“Yeah, I know, I was really busy over here, are things alright on your end?”

“I’m fine, just finishing articles before the festival”

“We’ll see each others there! Have you seen the final listing? It’s going to be amazing.”

“I know, I’ve also noticed that most of your childhood friends are going to be there. Speaking of which, I told Nastu about the trouble you were having with Rust, I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine, as long as its just Nastu, if you had told Erza we might have had problem.”

“Erza?”

“She tends to over react.”

Lucy was surprised by this, she would have picture Nastu to be more short fuse then Erza Scarlet, who always looked so calm and compose in her interview and even on stage.

“When did you talk to Nastu?” asked Levy sounding genially curious.

“He invited me in the backstage after a show” she explained, but as she said it, the all thing came to seem odd to her again, remembering the talk they had she added, “I think he wants to be my friend.”

“That sounds like Nastu, every where he goes he makes friend, I swear every time you go somewhere with him he knows someone.”

“That’s impressive” muttered Lucy thinking of her current friend situation. Her chest tightened and she looked away toward the street. Her eyes wandered along the lights of the streets lamps, they fell on a silhouette and she did a double take. This silhouette looked like Aquarius, didn’t it? Lucy didn’t have time to look better at it before it was gone, as if it had just been a pedestrian passing by. It could have been, after all, in this part of town people tend to wander at night. Maybe she had just imagined Aquarius. Again? What if she was indeed here? What if she wasn’t?

If she was here then her dad had found her, if she was here then she would be forced to go home. Lucy’s eyes glued to the window as her breathing quickened. She couldn’t see her anymore, maybe she hid in the shadow. Or, maybe, she had never been here. 

Lucy sat back on her bed, her heart was still beating strongly in her chest, and her hand shook lightly. She breathed in and out. This couldn’t be Aquarius, if it had been her, she wouldn’t have been stalking her, she would have grabbed her and dragged her back home already. This wasn’t Aquarius, she was just imagining things.

What did that meant? Why would she be imagining Aquarius around her? Was she going paranoid? Or, perhaps, it meant that she missed her home. Could she actually be missing a place where she had felt trapped, unwanted and unloved for so long? Some people had been nice to her, but that wasn’t enough. She would never go back to that place.

“Lucy!” a shout near her hears interrupted her thought. 

“Levy” she whispered remembering that she was still on the phone. 

“What happened? Why did you space out like that?”

“I’m sorry” Lucy didn’t want to get into what may or may not be going on in her head with her friend right now, so she simply said “I’m tired and imagining things.”

She heard Levy sighed on the line, she mustn’t have been very convincing, still her friend didn’t pressed her. “Okay go to sleep, we’ll see each other’s at the festival.”

Lucy thanked her and hung up. She lied down on her bed. She was still shaken from what she had seen, or thought she had seen. It still seemed odd that she would think she saw Aquarius twice in such a short amount of time. She had the feeling this could very well indeed be her. But it didn’t really matter, she would leave for the festival soon, and there, Aquarius couldn't reach her. Until she came back.

But it wasn’t Aquarius. She was imagining things, Aquarius was back home with her father, doing whatever it is she does for him. So there was no reason to mull over it. Aquarius wasn’t here. But what if she was?

It didn’t matter. She needed to think of something else and sleep. 

Aquarius could burst through the door anytime.

Think of something else.

She could be waiting for her outside.  
Think of something else. Think of something else. Think of something else. Think of something else. Think of something else. Think of something else. Think of something else.

Think of anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading


End file.
